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#the sooner they fix that the sooner i get my money and bail out of here
pulquedeguayaba · 2 years
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Listening to that Almedia Theatre podcast ep with TM cos I need me some soothing
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fanficshiddles · 4 years
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Loki’s Scream House, One Shot
Casey goes to Loki’s Scream House, not expecting to actually scream. But Loki likes to play and torture. 
Warnings: Rape/non-con, forced orgasms, douching, enema, pain, trapping, restraints, double penetration.
- Casey was so annoyed that her friends had all bailed on her. On Halloween, no less.
They said they’d heard rumours about Loki’s Scream house being far too scary, so had cancelled on her. Instead deciding to go to a party instead.
‘Bunch of chickens.’ Casey muttered as she made her way up the hill to where the Scream house sat. She would go to this haunted house and then turn up at the party, telling them all about her scary experience.
She snorted to herself at the thought. How scary could a haunted house be? Apparently this one was aptly named and would make her scream. But she doubted that.
As she got closer, she could indeed hear screaming from inside. But she was almost certain it was fake, she didn’t see any cars around. She doubted there was even anyone else inside. But since she had already bought a ticket, she wasn’t letting ten quid go to waste. She at least wanted to get her money’s worth with a laugh at how bad it was.
Upon reaching the door, she went to knock but the door slowly swung open. Revealing a tall man in an all-black suit. Matching his long black hair. His face was quite pale, but he had striking features. The smirk that crossed his face was slightly terrifying. But Casey smiled.
‘Welcome, to my Scream house.’ His smirk grew even larger as he put his arms out to the side and motioned for her to come in.
She stepped inside, looking around her. It was more like an abandoned house than a haunted one.
‘So… what’s the deal?’ Casey asked, stopping a few feet from Loki.
‘You know the deal. You bought a ticket for a tour around my Scream house. If you don’t scream, you get a refund. Well, I say tour. It’s more a walk around, I shall not be guiding you. Feel free to check out all the rooms. But do not, and I repeat, do NOT go into the basement. It is off limits.’ He said firmly.
Casey raised an eyebrow. ‘Okayyy…’
‘Enjoy!’ Loki bowed and then suddenly disappeared in a green haze and the door behind her slammed shut, making her jump slightly.
‘Must be on some sort of timer. It’s all just magic tricks.’ She said to herself.
Deciding to get this over with, she went down the corridor and into the first room she came across. It was a normal living room. But as she stepped inside, a web came down over her and a huge mechanical spider came flying out of the wall towards her, before then disappearing back inside. It did make her squeal, so she would give him that one. But it wasn’t a scream.
Fighting the web off, she looked around the room and wandered over to the fire place. There was a large cauldron on the fire, something was bubbling inside. She peeked in and saw some bones in there and a skull floated to the top. She rolled her eyes and moved on to another room.
She found all the rooms to be rather boring. She jumped once or twice, but it was nothing spectacular. Fake mechanical robots as witches and werewolves, vampires and ghouls.
Casey made her way to the last room, but it was just as dull. When she exited it, she was faced with the door that led down to the basement. But it was locked when she tried the handle.
Curiosity took over her though, so she had a quick search for the key. It was in the most obvious of places for hiding a key, on top of the door frame.
‘Typical.’ She huffed as she put it in the lock and turned.
She knew Loki had warned her not to go down there, but it’s like when you see a wet paint sign. You can’t help but touch it to see if it’s actually wet.
It was dark as she made her way down the steps, but once she reached the bottom automatic lights came on. There was another door just a few feet on front of her. There was no lock on it, so she was able to just push it open. But once she stepped inside, before she even had a chance to take in the room, the large door swung shut behind her.
She turned around and tried to open it again, but it was locked. She frantically looked around for a key but there wasn’t even a door handle.
‘What the fuck?’ She panicked, eyes wide. But then she noticed a small screen to the left of the door. She tried pushing on it, and to her relief it came to life.
But her heart sank when she read what it said.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – not completed
Clean out – not completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘What the actual fuck?’ She gasped, eyes wide.
That’s when she turned around to see what she was dealing with.
There was a brick wall opposite her, but there was nothing else there. It just seemed like an empty room. But she heard a beeping noise before Loki’s voice filled the room.
‘Naught girl, disobeying my orders.’ But he sounded delighted at the fact. ‘Unfortunately for you, you’ve stumbled into my unfinished play room. You see, I built this for an ex to have some fun in. She enjoyed some challenges. But there were a few… teething issues that I have yet to fix. There is no escaping the room, unless you follow through the entire programme. You need to start by removing all your clothes and going over to the brick wall.’
‘What the hell? Get me out of here! You perv, I’m not doing that!’ Casey stared banging on the door.
‘You can tire yourself out as much as you wish, pet. But until you do as you’re told and complete each task, you will be stuck there. As much as I would like to come and let you out, I can’t. There is no other way. And I did warn you not to enter.’
Casey checked every nook and cranny for a way out, but there was nothing. She tried pressing more buttons on the screen but nothing worked.
Loki watched in amusement from his room, the camera directly at her. It would follow her every movement and she had no idea it was there.
He smirked when he saw she finally gave in. Two hours later. Knowing and accepting there was just one way out.
Casey whined in defeat. She started to remove her clothes, feeling extremely vulnerable. Even more so when she heard his voice again.
‘That’s a good girl. The sooner you get through the tasks, the sooner you will be out of here.’
‘You creep! You’re watching?’ She gasped, trying to hide her breasts.
Loki chuckled. ‘I am. How else am I supposed to make sure you’re safe?’
Casey gritted her teeth but carried on with removing her knickers. She shivered slightly as the floor was stone cold.
‘Now, get over to the wall so we can begin.’ Loki purred.
Casey closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She had to remain calm and composed to get through this. Then as soon as she was out, she was calling the police on his freaky ass for sure. She wasn’t going to let this sick freak get away with it.
She walked hesitantly over to the wall. As soon as she was within two feet of it, holes in the wall suddenly opened up and four mechanical arms came flying out. Before she could react, they grabbed her wrists and ankles, holding her just above the floor in a spread-eagle position. She cried out and tried to struggle, but the arms were too strong.
‘Beautiful. As I said before, I wouldn’t bother trying to fight it, pet. You will only tire yourself out.’
Casey whimpered as she heard another bit on the wall opening up. But she relaxed a tiny bit when she saw it was a shower head. She was super confused.
‘Ah, power wash. The first task for you to endure.’ Loki hummed.
He watched in absolute delight from the comfort of his room. A glass of wine at hand and some grapes. His belt was unbuckled and his zipper open, because he knew it wouldn’t be long before he would need easy access.
Casey’s moment of relaxation was over very quickly. There was a whirring noise and suddenly the shower head started spraying water. But the force was very strong, more than the average shower head.
It hit her stomach first. The water was warm though, which she was glad of. It soaked her entire body first, then focused in on her breasts. But that wasn’t the worst part.
The shower head moved down between her legs and aimed directly up against her cunt. She cried out as the pressure hit her so forcefully, she thought she was going to pass out. It moved in a little closer, making her howl as it then hit her clit. Which she was ashamed to realise was throbbing in pleasure.
Her head flew backwards as she tightened her hands into fists and cried out as she came hard. It wasn’t a nice orgasm though, it was a forced one. So quick, she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy it. To her horror, the shower head remained in place, aiming directly at her sensitive little clit. Forcing her into another painful orgasm.
‘Ooo, so delightful to watch, pet. I think you enjoyed that much more than you are willing to admit.’ He growled.
After twenty minutes, but felt like a life-time to Casey, the shower head stopped and she was lowered to the ground. Her legs were like jelly and she fell to her knees as the mechanical arms were retracted into the wall.
She crawled away from the wall, near the door. Panting and exhausted already. She heard a pinging noise and looked up at the screen by the door.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – not completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘Well done for completing the first task. I wonder how you will fair with the second.’
Casey took a while to get her breath back. Then Loki coaxed her to go back to the wall for the second one. She dreaded to think what it was going to be.
Her body was still a bit weak, but she managed to get to her feet and walked over to the wall again. The same parts in the wall opened up and the same mechanical arms came out and restrained her in a spread-eagle position once more.
‘This is my favourite task, I must say.’ Loki’s sinful voice said across the speaker, making Casey bite her tongue to refrain from saying anything smart. Considering the position she was in, she knew it was best to keep quiet.
This time, instead of a shower head coming out of the wall, two lubricated tubes came out. What was contained within them Casey had no idea. But she knew she was about to find out pretty soon.
She started whining when the tubes moved down between her legs. One positioned at her pussy, the other at her anus. And they seemed to just hover there for a moment, as if dragging out her expected torture.
Loki smirked and started stroking his cock languidly. He flicked his wrist and moaned as the tubes thrust into both of Casey’s holes.
Casey bit down on her tongue hard to keep herself from screaming as she was violated in both holes. The lube made them slip in easier and the tubes weren’t too wide, but it was still uncomfortable. Especially the one in her anus, she had never put anything up there before.
But it got a lot worse for the poor girl.
Water started shooting into her, from both tubes.
‘Oh no… NO! PLEASE NO! STOP!’ She started crying out, but all she heard was Loki chuckling in return.
The enema in her ass felt so uncomfortable as she was filled with the warm water. It made her feel so heavy and bloated. The douching felt the same, very uncomfortable. The water kept pumping into her from both tubes until she felt like she was going to explode.
Suddenly the tubes popped out of her and she gasped as the water rushed out of her. Giving her such a strange feeling, a rather erotic feeling. But she pushed that thought out of her mind, she wasn’t going to give Loki the satisfaction.
But the tubes were replaced, not just twice but three times. Making sure she was thoroughly cleaned out.
‘Excellent, that’s you sparkling clean. Inside and out.’ Loki chuckled.
He wiped his own cum up with a tissue, he never did last long when watching a clean out.
Casey was once again released from the mechanical arms. She managed to stumble back over towards the door. Looking at the screen when it pinged.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘Oh god. What the hell is rope walk?’ She asked, looking around the room.
‘You will find out soon enough.’ Loki purred.
Casey just wanted this to be over with now. So she went back over to the wall, wanting it to hurry up. Expecting the same arms to appear, she was surprised when this time it was different.
One large hole opened up and a huge mechanical arm with one clamp came out. It reached straight for her and snapped around her middle, locking her in tightly with her arms trapped down at her sides. She squeaked and tried to kick out as it lifted her up in the air.
The floor then changed and there was a long treadmill appeared beneath her. Then a long rope was pulled from one side of the room to the other, going above the treadmill. But there were many knots along the rope.
‘What the…’ Casey trailed off when she was lowered down onto the rope. She cried out and tried going up on her tiptoes to avoid it. But the rope was just the right height, snugly fitting between her pussy lips and directly on her clit. She was on her tiptoes already and it was painful, so she knew if she let her feet go flat that would be the end of her.
‘I suggest you start walking, pet.’ Loki demanded.
‘Wh… what the hell? No way!’ She cried out, knowing those knots would be painful on her. Hell, even just the rope alone would be.
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You have to reach the other end to complete this task. If you don’t get moving, the treadmill will start. Making it so much more difficult for yourself.’
Loki was hard and throbbing once more. This task was always a delight to watch too, so much fun seeing his victims in pain.
Casey knew he wouldn’t be lying. So to try and get it over with, she started walking forward. But the drag of the rope on her clit burned and was so painful. When she reached the first knot, she struggled. It was quite a large knot and when she tried to pass it, it hit her clit and made her cry out in pain.
‘I can’t do it!’ She cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘You will be stuck forever on there if you don’t. The tasks don’t stop, another fault I need to fix.’
She soon learned how difficult it could get. The treadmill beneath her started to move very slowly in the opposite direction to where she was wanting to go, so she had no option but to walk. Not only making her tire quicker, but the movement was hurting.
To keep up and get past the knot, she had to walk even quicker on her tiptoes to beat the treadmill. She closed her eyes and took a big deep breath, then just went for it and forced herself to walk forward as quickly and forcefully as possible, getting over the knot with a scream.
Loki was jerking another one off rapidly as he watched her force herself across the rope. Crying and screaming in pain, especially when she came to another knot. But she was getting on far too easily, so to make it difficult and more of a challenge, he spun his finger around.
To Casey’s horror, the treadmill started to speed up a bit more. She couldn’t keep up, and was dragged backwards on the rope. The treadmill forced her back over a few knots, her screams of pain echoed around the room each time.
‘NO, YOU BASTARD!’ She howled loudly.
Loki laughed wickedly as he had another orgasm, making a mess of himself again.
It took three hours, three hours of absolute agony and torture before Casey managed to get across the other side of the rope. She was completely exhausted, broken. Her poor clit was battered and bruised. She was sure there were no nerve endings left.
She had never felt more relieved as she was in that moment when she was lifted from the rope and the treadmill. She collapsed in the middle of the room, unable to move. Her body so tired, she passed out from sheer exhaustion.
-
When she came to four hours later, she sobbed as she realised she was still in that room. It hadn’t been a nightmare.
But there was a tiny glimmer of hope when she looked at the screen.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – completed
Stuffed – not completed
One more to go. She dreaded to think what it was, but surely it wouldn’t be worse than what she had just endured. It couldn’t be.
‘Glad to see you are awake, pet. One more task to go.’
‘Ok… Let’s get it over with.’ She made her way over to the wall.
Again, mechanical arms came out. This time the floor opened up to reveal a large metal table that came up and she was laid upon. The mechanical arms were replaced by leather straps. But her feet were raised up and spread wide apart, her bum just over the edge of the table.
She closed her eyes and waited, while nothing happened. Part of her thought maybe the next machine was broken, whatever it would be. How Loki had made all of these tasks, she had no idea. He must be some evil genius or something.
Fear ran through her veins when she heard heavy footsteps walking towards her. She looked down, but her head was quickly forced back down when a large strap came up from the table and wrapped around her neck, holding her down.
She was trembling badly when Loki approached her between her legs. She was startled when she felt his cool hands stroke her thighs. She could just see Loki in her view, looming over her.
‘Well, well, well. Ready for the final task, are we?’ He grinned.
‘I… I thought you couldn’t get in?’ She whimpered.
Loki chuckled and leaned down, biting into her inner thigh that made her cry out. ‘I am the god of lies, pet. And I can get in wherever I want to. Including your lovely body that has been prepared so nicely for me and my friend.’
That made her eyes widen. His friend? What?
She wasn’t left wondering for long. Another being walked over to her, but she was shocked and confused to see it was another Loki.
‘What… What the heck is going on?’
‘Shhh. Just enjoy the last ride. I know I certainly will.’ He said wickedly as he then prised her bum cheeks wide apart, revealing her puckered asshole to him. Without any warning or preparation, he rammed his cock into her, making her scream.
‘Ohh and look at that. You’ve screamed. Not for the first time either.’ He laughed as he started thrusting into her.
The second Loki walked up to her head, he stroked her cheek softly at first. Then he waved his hand over the table and had part of it disappear so her head was over the edge. He moved in and pinched her nose, forcing her mouth to open. He then forced his cock into her mouth and down her throat as far as he could, releasing her nose so she could breathe through that instead. She had no option but to do so.
The original Loki that was plundering her ass, had a large dildo form in his hand. It was a clone of his own cock. He winked at her, his hips still moving at a ruthless pace, and he pressed the dildo into her. Moving it in time with his own thrusting in her ass.
Casey was sobbing around the cock in her mouth, drooling everywhere. She couldn’t take it, feeling so full from being filled in every hole.
But what made her feel worse, was she was starting to enjoy it. Her body was starting to respond well to the violation, no matter how much she cried.
From the width of the dildo in her pussy, it was rubbing against her clit with each and every thrust. At least the nerves weren’t completely damaged, she thought. That was a plus. She just had to keep calm and ride this out, then she would be free.
Loki grunted and groaned above her, both of them did. And Casey moaned around his cock as she came, squeezing the dildo in her pussy. Loki could feel that too. He thrust into her once more, both of them did. Then he came, in every hole. Even the dildo came too, how that happened she had no idea.
But she started to feel really full again, like she had with the clean out task. But at least this time she felt fluttery and high, having came too. And at the relief of knowing it was finally over…
‘Ohhhhh now, pet. That was so much fun, I must say.’ Loki chuckled. The dildo and second Loki vanished right on front of her eyes.
Casey still had no idea how he did that. But she knew it must’ve been trickery of some sorts.
The ping from the screen made her turn her head to take a look.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – completed
Stuffed – completed
She almost cried in relief when the door swung open.
Loki stepped back and watched as she slid off the table when the restraints let her go. She was like a baby deer taking her first steps as she rushed towards the door, grabbing her clothes on the way. Loki’s cum was leaking down her thighs and she still had plenty dribbling down her chin.
Without looking back, she stumbled up the steps and down the corridor towards the front door. It was open and she was about there when it slammed shut and Loki smoothly slid into her view on front of her. Fully clothed in his suit, not looking ruffled up at all.
‘Well, did you enjoy my Scream house?’ He smirked, folding his arms over his chest.
‘No! It was disgusting!’ She snarled at him, using her clothes to shield herself as best she could. She hadn’t even put them on yet, she just wanted out of there.
Loki chuckled, his eyes were twinkling mischievously. ‘You screamed. So no refund.’
‘Stuff your refund!’ She snapped and pushed past him, hauling the door open.
‘Oh I know. But it means I win and get my reward for you screaming.’
She paused with a foot out the door. She looked over her shoulder, shaking slightly. ‘What?’
Loki raised his eyebrows as he put his hands behind his back, looking innocent. ‘Oh dear. Did you not read the small print before accepting the terms and conditions when you booked your ticket?’
The look on her face told him that answer.
‘I suggest you take a look, pet. Before you do anything stupid.’
Casey ran out of the house and down the hill to safety. Once she was sure she was far enough away from that mad man, she stopped and put on her clothes. She pulled her phone out and was about to dial for the police, when she decided for some reason to quickly check her email confirmation.
She almost puked when she read what she had actually agreed to.
If you don’t scream in my Scream house, you get a full refund. However, if you scream, you waive all rights to contacting the police for anything that goes on within my house. You also agree to return to me every Halloween. Or I reserve the rights to come after you for a breach of terms and conditions.
Happy spooking!
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wouldduskwood · 3 years
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Descendants of Despair Part 55
Phil had his head down. He looked gaunt compared to the photos I had seen of him. When he reached our table, he lifted his head and his eyes lit up. “Thanks for coming,” he said as the guards stepped back, allowing him to sit opposite us. I nodded without saying a word, not wanting to give too much of my intentions away yet. It was far easier to build a picture of someone when you had the power. Dan greeted Phil in a typical bullheaded bloke style. I watched, trying to establish a baseline between their casual conversation. It wasn’t an easy task, as both men were doing their best to shelter. I guessed this was because they had a few run ins in the past. I was forced to rely on micro expressions, which is something that I didn’t like to do because it meant staring directly at someone to spot any slight change in their expression. Micro expressions usually only lasted around ⅕ of a second. It tended to make people uncomfortable and self conscious when spending this much time staring at them.
Once the typical small talk had run dry, and I had gathered as much as I could on reading Phil’s facial cues, I finally spoke. “So, you’re innocent.” I stated, matter of factly. Phil’s eyes widened briefly.
“You believe me then?” he asked. I considered his question. Believe him. Not so much. Believe the evidence we had so far that the man without a face was still active, absolutely. But did it mean Phil wasn’t involved in one way or another, not really. Still, when the truth wouldn’t get me what I wanted, lying was nearly guaranteed to. As long as the lie was something they wanted to hear, they’d believe it without question.
“Yes, I believe you. I want to know more about your connection with Michael Hansen and what he has to do with this whole thing.” I said clearly, my tone even and eyes maintaining direct contact. It was a good strategy to convince people that the lie was the truth, even if they were on the fence about it.
Phil smiled. “I knew I liked you. When I get out of here, I am going to take you out for a drink. Perhaps a meal.” I could see Dan was about to speak, and I knew what he was going to say would be something biting about Jake, so I kicked him under the table. The fact that Phil had deflected from the purpose of the conversation concerned me. I was about to respond, flirt if I had to, anything to get the truth from him, when we were interrupted by a form approaching the table. I glanced up and sighed. I had a pretty good idea who our uninvited guest was, so I had a choice. Play it stupid, and hope for the best, or put him off his game. The problem was, I wasn’t 100% sure I was correct in my assumptions, but the risk seemed worth it.
“Ah, my good friend Alan Bloomgate. Nice to finally meet you.” I announced, standing as I did and shaking his hand. This gesture was uncomfortable for me, but it also gave me an element of power in the situation. Alan paused, suddenly off his stride, surprised I had made the connection so quickly. I was thankful that my suspicion was valid. If I had been wrong, the officer would have had all the power.
“Is now a good time to discuss information you may have pertaining to the Hannah Donfort and Amy Lewis Bell cases?” Alan asked, directly to the point. I raised an eyebrow as I considered what he said. The question was stupid really, he knew full well that I had been avoiding that exact conversation. Stupid questions lead to stupid answers, I decided.
“Well, actually now is not a really good time, see I came here to spend some time with my close pal Phil. See, he’s practically family... and, you know how things go when you’re in prison, that time tends to be quite limited,” I announced, unable to keep my snarky attitude to myself, while exaggerating my relationship to Phil. I despised the police in general. They had never done anything to protect me. When I was on the street, they would walk past me like they were blind, even when I was just a kid. It tended to be easier for them, less paperwork and all of that. Unless I did something wrong, then they’d be all over my ass to protect the more upstanding citizens. Of course, my attitude towards them didn’t help matters. Still, it made me feel better.
“I’m sure we can arrange for you to see Mr Hawkins another time,” Alan said, his voice taking on a stern ‘you will not fuck with me’ tone. This riled me even more. I hoped Jake would do something before I ended up getting arrested for assaulting a police officer.
“Well, see, that’s the thing. Mr Hawkins really shouldn’t be in here at all, right?" I paused, thinking to myself 'at least not for everything that the man without a face has done'. "I know you make a habit of going after innocent people, but arresting an innocent man while being blind to the movements of the actual culprit?" I mock sighed, exaggerating it for effect. "Anyway, If you want my opinion on the aforementioned cases, then I’d suggest you cast your net a little further and leave us alone.” I replied, trying desperately to refrain from what I actually wanted to say. Dan and Phil both shot me awkward ‘won’t you shut the fuck up’ glances. However, I couldn’t really be arrested for being a bitch. They could hardly build much of a case on hurt feelings. The best they could do was hold me in a cell for a while. That would be inconvenient but not the end of the world.
As Alan glared at me, I suddenly regretted my response, as I found myself backed into a corner.
“Actually, I was about to tell Mr Hawkins that we would be releasing him on bail, if he is able to make the money,” Alan replied. This surprised me and put me further on the back foot. Just as I was about to dig the hole deeper for myself, alarms started sounding in various places throughout the building. Moving hastily, I grabbed Dan’s arm and motioned he should follow. As Alan’s attention was momentarily distracted, I slid past him and headed into the reception area, walking quickly, but refraining from running. I hoped Jake's alarms hadn’t caused a lockdown. On reaching the reception, I could see that the staff were all staring at the computer screen. Making my way out the front door, I turned briefly to face Dan.
“Can you text Jake the letter D. I’ll be in touch,” I stated quickly then, before he could respond, I was off at a run taking one of my less desired escape routes. I didn’t know whether I could trust him with that simple task, but I hoped he would do that for me, even if I had upset him.
Jumping over the buildings for my escape, I was careful to keep an eye out for the man without a face, but the bigger concern was Alan. I wondered just how much he knew and who he was working in conjunction with. If it was the Government, he now had a good idea where Jake and I were. If it was from my past, then he was a dirty cop and I would have a tail pretty quickly. Either way, I’d fucked up going there and hadn’t learnt much of anything, except that Phil was definitely hiding something. Sliding down the fire escape, I was relieved to see Jake pull up in front of me. He had the door open before I had cleared the small distance to the car. I jumped in and slammed the door, holding on as he sped away.
“I’m so sorry,” Jake growled. “I would have had you out sooner, but from what I could see, you hadn’t gained enough from Phil to make any clear judgements. I knew we had one shot at this...but fuck,” he hissed. I ignored his comment to try and forge ahead. We were in more danger now than we had been since we found each other.
“I think we need to meet up with Dan. He knows Phil better than I do and I have a few questions for him. Then we need to get the fuck out of here, because I have a bad feeling that one of our pasts is going to catch up with us.” I stated. Jake nodded, suddenly looking tired more than anything.
“You’re right, fuck, I’m so sorry, you know that right? I should have been stronger and stayed away from you. You’d only have your own problems to face, not this shit with Hannah and the Government. I screwed your life from the moment I entered it.”
Shit, meeting up with Phil had potentially been the worst idea of my life. Now, not only were we in danger, but Jake had regressed back to pushing me away. Admittedly, I had done the same thing to him in the beginning, but since I had consciously made the decision that life wasn’t really life without Jake, I had been all in. I would manage to live with the dangers of his life and I’d do anything in my power to shelter him from the dangers of mine. After all, couples were meant to share shit, right? And he made me stronger. His defenses, coupled with my own, should be enough to face anything.
As he drove, I glared at him, but he took no notice. Instead his eyes remained fixed on the road in front of him. “Fuck Jake.” I groaned. “You don’t get it, do you? The only purpose I had in my life, before you, was to try and fix the problems I have started. What do you think would have happened to me after that? When my problems were gone, with no purpose? I may have ended up going back to the street. I may have ended up dead. Now I want to live. Now, even after I have fixed my situation, I want to carry on. Because of you, you turnip,” I growled, then shook my head at myself. Jake sighed, slumping in his seat.
“Turnip?” he questioned.
“Ugh, I wanted to let you know how stupid you were being...without being mean?” I sighed. Jake snickered quietly at my response then sighed again.
“Nothing you can say right now will make me feel any less guilty.” He murmured. “I need to feel guilty right now. I need to feel angry and upset. After that, I’ll be more willing to think about our future. But right now, I just need to be angry.”
I nodded thoughtfully and sat back, trying to ignore his presence and give him the time he needed. Eventually he replied. “Okay, you better text Donkey Kong with his new mission,” he sighed with a side smile at me. I giggled. “Wait, why Donkey Kong now?” I asked. “Isn’t it obvious?” Jake replied. “He’s a giant monkey that I could see throwing things when he gets upset, and you are like a very talented jump man that can jump pretty much anything.”
I was glad that Jake had a bit of his humour back, so I decided to encourage him more along this path. “Wait, when did I become a man?” I questioned, unzipping my pants and making a mock show of checking. Jake laughed. “You had better let me check that later, I will be more thorough than you.”
“Hm, yeah I think I’ll allow that,” I giggled as I rezipped my pants. Jake took my hand and smiled. “Listen, what I said before, it’s because I’m scared. It isn’t because I don’t want you. You’ve given my life as much purpose as I’ve given yours. But I’ve given you twice as many problems as you’ve given me.”
“Hm, you’re right.” I replied, pausing and raising my eyebrows as I stared at him. “I can always get a few more, if you like! That way we can be even.” Jake laughed again but tried to turn it into a growl of disapproval. I snickered then pulled out my phone. “Okay, so where are we going to meet Donkey Kong?” I asked. Jake smiled then thought for a moment. “I guess we don’t have a lot of options. Let’s go back to the warehouse. At least we know he knows where that is. We will move on as soon as we have had this conversation...or before it if we see any signs of trouble.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a weight of dread descend again. Pulling out my phone, I text Dan then sat back, eyes closed, as Jake drove us back to the warehouse.
Part 56
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imagine-loki · 4 years
Text
Loki's Scream House (READ THE WARNINGS) trigger warning- Rape
TITLE: Loki’s Scream House CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One shot AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine going to ‘Loki’s Scream house’ on Halloween RATING: M NOTES: Very late Halloween one shot! 
WARNINGS: Rape/Non-con, forced orgasms, trapping, douching, enema, pain play, Loki’s a sadist! 
Casey was so annoyed that her friends had all bailed on her. On Halloween, no less.
They said they’d heard rumours about Loki’s Scream house being far too scary, so had cancelled on her. Instead deciding to go to a party instead.
‘Bunch of chickens.’ Casey muttered as she made her way up the hill to where the Scream house sat. She would go to this haunted house and then turn up at the party, telling them all about her scary experience.
She snorted to herself at the thought. How scary could a haunted house be? Apparently this one was aptly named and would make her scream. But she doubted that.
As she got closer, she could indeed hear screaming from inside. But she was almost certain it was fake, she didn’t see any cars around. She doubted there was even anyone else inside. But since she had already bought a ticket, she wasn’t letting ten quid go to waste. She at least wanted to get her money’s worth with a laugh at how bad it was.
Upon reaching the door, she went to knock but the door slowly swung open. Revealing a tall man in an all-black suit. Matching his long black hair. His face was quite pale, but he had striking features. The smirk that crossed his face was slightly terrifying. But Casey smiled.
‘Welcome, to my Scream house.’ His smirk grew even larger as he put his arms out to the side and motioned for her to come in.
She stepped inside, looking around her. It was more like an abandoned house than a haunted one.
‘So… what’s the deal?’ Casey asked, stopping a few feet from Loki.
‘You know the deal. You bought a ticket for a tour around my Scream house. If you don’t scream, you get a refund. Well, I say tour. It’s more a walk around, I shall not be guiding you. Feel free to check out all the rooms. But do not, and I repeat, do NOT go into the basement. It is off limits.’ He said firmly.
Casey raised an eyebrow. ‘Okayyy…’
‘Enjoy!’ Loki bowed and then suddenly disappeared in a green haze and the door behind her slammed shut, making her jump slightly.
‘Must be on some sort of timer. It’s all just magic tricks.’ She said to herself.
Deciding to get this over with, she went down the corridor and into the first room she came across. It was a normal living room. But as she stepped inside, a web came down over her and a huge mechanical spider came flying out of the wall towards her, before then disappearing back inside. It did make her squeal, so she would give him that one. But it wasn’t a scream.
Fighting the web off, she looked around the room and wandered over to the fire place. There was a large cauldron on the fire, something was bubbling inside. She peeked in and saw some bones in there and a skull floated to the top. She rolled her eyes and moved on to another room.
She found all the rooms to be rather boring. She jumped once or twice, but it was nothing spectacular. Fake mechanical robots as witches and werewolves, vampires and ghouls.
Casey made her way to the last room, but it was just as dull. When she exited it, she was faced with the door that led down to the basement. But it was locked when she tried the handle.
Curiosity took over her though, so she had a quick search for the key. It was in the most obvious of places for hiding a key, on top of the door frame.
‘Typical.’ She huffed as she put it in the lock and turned.
She knew Loki had warned her not to go down there, but it’s like when you see a wet paint sign. You can’t help but touch it to see if it’s actually wet.
It was dark as she made her way down the steps, but once she reached the bottom automatic lights came on. There was another door just a few feet on front of her. There was no lock on it, so she was able to just push it open. But once she stepped inside, before she even had a chance to take in the room, the large door swung shut behind her.
She turned around and tried to open it again, but it was locked. She frantically looked around for a key but there wasn’t even a door handle.
‘What the fuck?’ She panicked, eyes wide. But then she noticed a small screen to the left of the door. She tried pushing on it, and to her relief it came to life.
But her heart sank when she read what it said.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – not completed
Clean out – not completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘What the actual fuck?’ She gasped, eyes wide.
That’s when she turned around to see what she was dealing with.
There was a brick wall opposite her, but there was nothing else there. It just seemed like an empty room. But she heard a beeping noise before Loki’s voice filled the room.
‘Naught girl, disobeying my orders.’ But he sounded delighted at the fact. ‘Unfortunately for you, you’ve stumbled into my unfinished play room. You see, I built this for an ex to have some fun in. She enjoyed some challenges. But there were a few… teething issues that I have yet to fix. There is no escaping the room, unless you follow through the entire programme. You need to start by removing all your clothes and going over to the brick wall.’
‘What the hell? Get me out of here! You perv, I’m not doing that!’ Casey stared banging on the door.
‘You can tire yourself out as much as you wish, pet. But until you do as you’re told and complete each task, you will be stuck there. As much as I would like to come and let you out, I can’t. There is no other way. And I did warn you not to enter.’
Casey checked every nook and cranny for a way out, but there was nothing. She tried pressing more buttons on the screen but nothing worked.
Loki watched in amusement from his room, the camera directly at her. It would follow her every movement and she had no idea it was there.
He smirked when he saw she finally gave in. Two hours later. Knowing and accepting there was just one way out.
Casey whined in defeat. She started to remove her clothes, feeling extremely vulnerable. Even more so when she heard his voice again.
‘That’s a good girl. The sooner you get through the tasks, the sooner you will be out of here.’
‘You creep! You’re watching?’ She gasped, trying to hide her breasts.
Loki chuckled. ‘I am. How else am I supposed to make sure you’re safe?’
Casey gritted her teeth but carried on with removing her knickers. She shivered slightly as the floor was stone cold.
‘Now, get over to the wall so we can begin.’ Loki purred.
Casey closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She had to remain calm and composed to get through this. Then as soon as she was out, she was calling the police on his freaky ass for sure. She wasn’t going to let this sick freak get away with it.
She walked hesitantly over to the wall. As soon as she was within two feet of it, holes in the wall suddenly opened up and four mechanical arms came flying out. Before she could react, they grabbed her wrists and ankles, holding her just above the floor in a spread-eagle position. She cried out and tried to struggle, but the arms were too strong.
‘Beautiful. As I said before, I wouldn’t bother trying to fight it, pet. You will only tire yourself out.’
Casey whimpered as she heard another bit on the wall opening up. But she relaxed a tiny bit when she saw it was a shower head. She was super confused.
‘Ah, power wash. The first task for you to endure.’ Loki hummed.
He watched in absolute delight from the comfort of his room. A glass of wine at hand and some grapes. His belt was unbuckled and his zipper open, because he knew it wouldn’t be long before he would need easy access.
Casey’s moment of relaxation was over very quickly. There was a whirring noise and suddenly the shower head started spraying water. But the force was very strong, more than the average shower head.
It hit her stomach first. The water was warm though, which she was glad of. It soaked her entire body first, then focused in on her breasts. But that wasn’t the worst part.
The shower head moved down between her legs and aimed directly up against her cunt. She cried out as the pressure hit her so forcefully, she thought she was going to pass out. It moved in a little closer, making her howl as it then hit her clit. Which she was ashamed to realise was throbbing in pleasure.
Her head flew backwards as she tightened her hands into fists and cried out as she came hard. It wasn’t a nice orgasm though, it was a forced one. So quick, she hadn’t been able to fully enjoy it. To her horror, the shower head remained in place, aiming directly at her sensitive little clit. Forcing her into another painful orgasm.
‘Ooo, so delightful to watch, pet. I think you enjoyed that much more than you are willing to admit.’ He growled.
After twenty minutes, but felt like a life-time to Casey, the shower head stopped and she was lowered to the ground. Her legs were like jelly and she fell to her knees as the mechanical arms were retracted into the wall.
She crawled away from the wall, near the door. Panting and exhausted already. She heard a pinging noise and looked up at the screen by the door.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – not completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘Well done for completing the first task. I wonder how you will fair with the second.’
Casey took a while to get her breath back. Then Loki coaxed her to go back to the wall for the second one. She dreaded to think what it was going to be.
Her body was still a bit weak, but she managed to get to her feet and walked over to the wall again. The same parts in the wall opened up and the same mechanical arms came out and restrained her in a spread-eagle position once more.
‘This is my favourite task, I must say.’ Loki’s sinful voice said across the speaker, making Casey bite her tongue to refrain from saying anything smart. Considering the position she was in, she knew it was best to keep quiet.
This time, instead of a shower head coming out of the wall, two lubricated tubes came out. What was contained within them Casey had no idea. But she knew she was about to find out pretty soon.
She started whining when the tubes moved down between her legs. One positioned at her pussy, the other at her anus. And they seemed to just hover there for a moment, as if dragging out her expected torture.
Loki smirked and started stroking his cock languidly. He flicked his wrist and moaned as the tubes thrust into both of Casey’s holes.
Casey bit down on her tongue hard to keep herself from screaming as she was violated in both holes. The lube made them slip in easier and the tubes weren’t too wide, but it was still uncomfortable. Especially the one in her anus, she had never put anything up there before.
But it got a lot worse for the poor girl.
Water started shooting into her, from both tubes.
‘Oh no… NO! PLEASE NO! STOP!’ She started crying out, but all she heard was Loki chuckling in return.
The enema in her ass felt so uncomfortable as she was filled with the warm water. It made her feel so heavy and bloated. The douching felt the same, very uncomfortable. The water kept pumping into her from both tubes until she felt like she was going to explode.
Suddenly the tubes popped out of her and she gasped as the water rushed out of her. Giving her such a strange feeling, a rather erotic feeling. But she pushed that thought out of her mind, she wasn’t going to give Loki the satisfaction.
But the tubes were replaced, not just twice but three times. Making sure she was thoroughly cleaned out.
‘Excellent, that’s you sparkling clean. Inside and out.’ Loki chuckled.
He wiped his own cum up with a tissue, he never did last long when watching a clean out.
Casey was once again released from the mechanical arms. She managed to stumble back over towards the door. Looking at the screen when it pinged.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – not completed
Stuffed – not completed
‘Oh god. What the hell is rope walk?’ She asked, looking around the room.
‘You will find out soon enough.’ Loki purred.
Casey just wanted this to be over with now. So she went back over to the wall, wanting it to hurry up. Expecting the same arms to appear, she was surprised when this time it was different.
One large hole opened up and a huge mechanical arm with one clamp came out. It reached straight for her and snapped around her middle, locking her in tightly with her arms trapped down at her sides. She squeaked and tried to kick out as it lifted her up in the air.
The floor then changed and there was a long treadmill appeared beneath her. Then a long rope was pulled from one side of the room to the other, going above the treadmill. But there were many knots along the rope.
‘What the…’ Casey trailed off when she was lowered down onto the rope. She cried out and tried going up on her tiptoes to avoid it. But the rope was just the right height, snugly fitting between her pussy lips and directly on her clit. She was on her tiptoes already and it was painful, so she knew if she let her feet go flat that would be the end of her.
‘I suggest you start walking, pet.’ Loki demanded.
‘Wh… what the hell? No way!’ She cried out, knowing those knots would be painful on her. Hell, even just the rope alone would be.
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You have to reach the other end to complete this task. If you don’t get moving, the treadmill will start. Making it so much more difficult for yourself.’
Loki was hard and throbbing once more. This task was always a delight to watch too, so much fun seeing his victims in pain.
Casey knew he wouldn’t be lying. So to try and get it over with, she started walking forward. But the drag of the rope on her clit burned and was so painful. When she reached the first knot, she struggled. It was quite a large knot and when she tried to pass it, it hit her clit and made her cry out in pain.
‘I can’t do it!’ She cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘You will be stuck forever on there if you don’t. The tasks don’t stop, another fault I need to fix.’
She soon learned how difficult it could get. The treadmill beneath her started to move very slowly in the opposite direction to where she was wanting to go, so she had no option but to walk. Not only making her tire quicker, but the movement was hurting.
To keep up and get past the knot, she had to walk even quicker on her tiptoes to beat the treadmill. She closed her eyes and took a big deep breath, then just went for it and forced herself to walk forward as quickly and forcefully as possible, getting over the knot with a scream.
Loki was jerking another one off rapidly as he watched her force herself across the rope. Crying and screaming in pain, especially when she came to another knot. But she was getting on far too easily, so to make it difficult and more of a challenge, he spun his finger around.
To Casey’s horror, the treadmill started to speed up a bit more. She couldn’t keep up, and was dragged backwards on the rope. The treadmill forced her back over a few knots, her screams of pain echoed around the room each time.
‘NO, YOU BASTARD!’ She howled loudly.
Loki laughed wickedly as he had another orgasm, making a mess of himself again.
It took three hours, three hours of absolute agony and torture before Casey managed to get across the other side of the rope. She was completely exhausted, broken. Her poor clit was battered and bruised. She was sure there were no nerve endings left.
She had never felt more relieved as she was in that moment when she was lifted from the rope and the treadmill. She collapsed in the middle of the room, unable to move. Her body so tired, she passed out from sheer exhaustion.
-
When she came to four hours later, she sobbed as she realised she was still in that room. It hadn’t been a nightmare.
But there was a tiny glimmer of hope when she looked at the screen.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – completed
Stuffed – not completed
One more to go. She dreaded to think what it was, but surely it wouldn’t be worse than what she had just endured. It couldn’t be.
‘Glad to see you are awake, pet. One more task to go.’
‘Ok… Let’s get it over with.’ She made her way over to the wall.
Again, mechanical arms came out. This time the floor opened up to reveal a large metal table that came up and she was laid upon. The mechanical arms were replaced by leather straps. But her feet were raised up and spread wide apart, her bum just over the edge of the table.
She closed her eyes and waited, while nothing happened. Part of her thought maybe the next machine was broken, whatever it would be. How Loki had made all of these tasks, she had no idea. He must be some evil genius or something.
Fear ran through her veins when she heard heavy footsteps walking towards her. She looked down, but her head was quickly forced back down when a large strap came up from the table and wrapped around her neck, holding her down.
She was trembling badly when Loki approached her between her legs. She was startled when she felt his cool hands stroke her thighs. She could just see Loki in her view, looming over her.
‘Well, well, well. Ready for the final task, are we?’ He grinned.
‘I… I thought you couldn’t get in?’ She whimpered.
Loki chuckled and leaned down, biting into her inner thigh that made her cry out. ‘I am the god of lies, pet. And I can get in wherever I want to. Including your lovely body that has been prepared so nicely for me and my friend.’
That made her eyes widen. His friend? What?
She wasn’t left wondering for long. Another being walked over to her, but she was shocked and confused to see it was another Loki.
‘What… What the heck is going on?’
‘Shhh. Just enjoy the last ride. I know I certainly will.’ He said wickedly as he then prised her bum cheeks wide apart, revealing her puckered asshole to him. Without any warning or preparation, he rammed his cock into her, making her scream.
‘Ohh and look at that. You’ve screamed. Not for the first time either.’ He laughed as he started thrusting into her.
The second Loki walked up to her head, he stroked her cheek softly at first. Then he waved his hand over the table and had part of it disappear so her head was over the edge. He moved in and pinched her nose, forcing her mouth to open. He then forced his cock into her mouth and down her throat as far as he could, releasing her nose so she could breathe through that instead. She had no option but to do so.
The original Loki that was plundering her ass, had a large dildo form in his hand. It was a clone of his own cock. He winked at her, his hips still moving at a ruthless pace, and he pressed the dildo into her. Moving it in time with his own thrusting in her ass.
Casey was sobbing around the cock in her mouth, drooling everywhere. She couldn’t take it, feeling so full from being filled in every hole.
But what made her feel worse, was she was starting to enjoy it. Her body was starting to respond well to the violation, no matter how much she cried.
From the width of the dildo in her pussy, it was rubbing against her clit with each and every thrust. At least the nerves weren’t completely damaged, she thought. That was a plus. She just had to keep calm and ride this out, then she would be free.
Loki grunted and groaned above her, both of them did. And Casey moaned around his cock as she came, squeezing the dildo in her pussy. Loki could feel that too. He thrust into her once more, both of them did. Then he came, in every hole. Even the dildo came too, how that happened she had no idea.
But she started to feel really full again, like she had with the clean out task. But at least this time she felt fluttery and high, having came too. And at the relief of knowing it was finally over…
‘Ohhhhh now, pet. That was so much fun, I must say.’ Loki chuckled. The dildo and second Loki vanished right on front of her eyes.
Casey still had no idea how he did that. But she knew it must’ve been trickery of some sorts.
The ping from the screen made her turn her head to take a look.
Complete all tasks to unlock the door.
Power wash – completed
Clean out – completed
Rope walk – completed
Stuffed – completed
She almost cried in relief when the door swung open.
Loki stepped back and watched as she slid off the table when the restraints let her go. She was like a baby deer taking her first steps as she rushed towards the door, grabbing her clothes on the way. Loki’s cum was leaking down her thighs and she still had plenty dribbling down her chin.
Without looking back, she stumbled up the steps and down the corridor towards the front door. It was open and she was about there when it slammed shut and Loki smoothly slid into her view on front of her. Fully clothed in his suit, not looking ruffled up at all.
‘Well, did you enjoy my Scream house?’ He smirked, folding his arms over his chest.
‘No! It was disgusting!’ She snarled at him, using her clothes to shield herself as best she could. She hadn’t even put them on yet, she just wanted out of there.
Loki chuckled, his eyes were twinkling mischievously. ‘You screamed. So no refund.’
‘Stuff your refund!’ She snapped and pushed past him, hauling the door open.
‘Oh I know. But it means I win and get my reward for you screaming.’
She paused with a foot out the door. She looked over her shoulder, shaking slightly. ‘What?’
Loki raised his eyebrows as he put his hands behind his back, looking innocent. ‘Oh dear. Did you not read the small print before accepting the terms and conditions when you booked your ticket?’
The look on her face told him that answer.
‘I suggest you take a look, pet. Before you do anything stupid.’
Casey ran out of the house and down the hill to safety. Once she was sure she was far enough away from that mad man, she stopped and put on her clothes. She pulled her phone out and was about to dial for the police, when she decided for some reason to quickly check her email confirmation.
She almost puked when she read what she had actually agreed to.
If you don’t scream in my Scream house, you get a full refund. However, if you scream, you waive all rights to contacting the police for anything that goes on within my house. You also agree to return to me every Halloween. Or I reserve the rights to come after you for a breach of terms and conditions.
Happy spooking!
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the-ace-with-spades · 3 years
Text
(5/6) the best is yet to be
five times someone realized Ronan and Adam were basically married and one time they actually were
Part 1 │Part 2 │Part 3 │Part 4 │Part 6
Read on ao3
Declan wasn't surprised when Ronan told him he was gay, in fact, he didn't react at all, just shrugged and asked if Ronan would eat dinner with him and Matthew.
Declan wasn't surprised easily.
There was no big deal. Declan wasn't one of those Catholics and Ronan wasn't on the way to become a saint, if not for the obvious faith in God,  Declan would say he was closer to becoming a satanist, really. If anything, this was less explicit and less worrying than picking him from the police station again or finding out he was dropping out to become a farmer. And it wasn't like Ronan was hiding it — Declan confirmed the suspicions the moment he moved in with Gansey but he suspected long before that.
He supposed this was what happened when your little brother leaves gay porn magazines just out in the open on his bed and you're the one hiding them from your homophobic father. Not that he would tell Ronan that, the experience would be equally traumatising and embarrassing to both of them and Declan didn't like to share the burden.
Adam Parrish was a fucking surprise.
Declan knew of Adam Parrish because of school, first. He was the quiet scholarship kid that didn't attract much attention except for his obvious poorness. Well, he was quiet until he was destroying Declan in the debate club. He still didn't talk much about himself, not like every Aglionby guy who thought he was the best thing since sliced bread, but Declan could understand that. He could understand that because he knew that sometimes you hide so many things that you no longer know who you are.
But that didn't make him less suspicious. Parrish joined the merry Gansey gang of traumatised misfits suddenly and without trying — so Declan did a background check on him.
His suspicion became deeper. He didn't like Ronan to think this was a friendship and not a transaction — Parrish had to have ulterior motives. He seemed to be a person that would definitely have less to give and more to take.
But then he didn't take anything.
The night Declan went to the police station with the knowledge that Ronan bit Robert Parrish, he thought it was the end, that this was the final charge that money won't be able to drop and that Ronan will have to be bailed out and smuggled out to Canada to not go to jail.
And then Declan came in and the police officer told him that Robert Parrish is being charged and they needed Ronan to testify to make the charge stick and he couldn't testify without a legal guardian present.
No one said anything about Ronan getting arrested because Adam Parrish admitted to his deepest secret.
And Declan was sure this was the end of niceties from Parrish, that he was going to use it as an excuse to move into that warehouse Ronan called home and sponge off on Gansey's kindness and Ronan's guilt.
And then he fucking didn't. So Declan gave him the pass.
And then, months later, Ronan told them he was gay.
The next Sunday, Parrish came to the Mass with him, wearing a secondhand suit and Ronan's tie.
"This is my fucking boyfriend," Ronan told him and Matthew on the steps to St. Agnes. "Deal with it."
Declan rolled his eyes. Adam rolled his eyes fondly. Declan frowned. Adam raised an eyebrow.
Matty asked if Adam was Catholic. Declan raised an eyebrow — he knew he wasn't.
"No," Adam answered. "I'm the emotional support."
True to his word, Parrish didn't pray, didn't kneel and didn't move during the sign of peace offering. Instead, whenever Ronan sat down next to him, his hand would wander to Ronan's on its own, like it was natural for him, and Ronan wouldn't oppose, just curl his fingers over his knuckles and caress it with his thumb.
There was, Declan found out over time, a huge amount of hands involving the two.
They walked out of the church holding hands too and held them together when Declan drove them all to the cheap diner Ronan insisted on. Parrish insisted on paying for his food an hour later and it became obvious why Ronan wanted to go to this exact place.
It was strange to see Ronan care about somebody and care enough to think about this kind of details — he knew Ronan did care, even if never about Declan, but it felt strange on another level. Like he had seen it before but didn't realize.
Declan tended to erasure Adam Parrish from his mind most of the time — if anything, he was safe for the Lynch family.
Parrish was a good influence if one compared being smitten to being influenced. Declan tended to use it to his own advantage — although Ronan would often refuse for the sake of refusing, he refused Parrish less than anyone else. He encouraged Ronan to modernise the farm — with a promise that he'll fix anything that breaks for him, or so Matty had heard — and actually, somehow convinced him to pay taxes, which was in itself a miracle — Declan felt like buying him a car just for that. He had to cover up enough tax fraud thanks to their dad and he wasn't going to do it again.
So Parrish was a good influence and when Declan didn't feel like dealing with Ronan's snark, he would text or call Parrish.
Not gonna be in church tomorrow, was a text Declan got one Saturday, waiting for Matty to get back from an outing with his lacrosse buddies.
He had to blink a couple of times because he hadn't had an unprompted text from Ronan in over two years. He wondered whether Parrish wrote it out of courtesy — or because he didn't want to deal with Declan either.
He called Parrish. He didn't pick up. He called Ronan. He didn't pick up. He called again.
A text came.
Fuck off
It was definitely Ronan.
The next day, Declan considered the option that Ronan was joking. Out of all the things, Ronan would never miss church, he couldn't recall even one time — Ronan would sooner come drunk or hangover to church than not come at all.
He didn't show up. So Declan left Matthew in a restaurant and drove to the Barns.
No one came out even when the Wolvo roared in front of the house. Declan left the car, ready for a disaster.
He hesitated before coming in.
He didn't visit the Barns that often but it was often enough that he had seen Ronan and Adam in enough compromising positions that made him wish he could burn a hole in place of those memories. He was never to see the kitchen counter the same and definitely never again prepare food on it. Knocking was safer.
He knocked. No one answered. He knocked louder.
There was a terribly loud screech behind him and Ronan's awful bird from hell landed on the balustrade of the porch, staring at him in the same way Ronan would if he was pissed. This was another reason why he never visited the Barns — everything, including his brother and his brother's boyfriend, crept him out.
He knocked again, louder and longer. No one opened.
He looked around, ignoring more screeching. Both Parrish's fugly car and Ronan's BMW are tucked behind the closest barn.
He banged on the door. Shouted, "Ronan, open up. For fuck's sake, I know you're inside," and banged again.
The door opened and Ronan, looking more pissed off than he had seen him in a long time.
"You fuckface," he said, which in Ronan-language meant a greeting. "Shut up."
Declan opened his mouth but articulated nothing before the cries came out from the inside of the kitchen. He frowned.
"What was that?"
Ronan groaned and went back inside, not bothering to close the door in Declan's face, which was a red flag in itself.
Declan went after him, straight to the living room.
The cries were Opal's. She was currently tucked into Parrish's arm, her head curled under his chin and bailing her eyes out. Parrish wasn't just holding her — he was making shushing noises and rocking her back and forth.
"It's alright, sugarplum," he was saying, in the sweetest tone that sounded so out of place on him. "It'll go away, I promise."
Ronan's whole body softened with every step he took towards Parrish. He reached out and brushed Opal's curls in a gesture that Declan often, as a child, would seek from their mom.
"Did you get it?" Adam asked over Opal's sniffling.
His eyes moved around Ronan's face and noticed Declan, standing a couple of feet away.
"No, got sidetracked," he said. When Parrish sent him a look, he added, "But I'm going to, right away."
"Grab the baby Tylenol while you are at it."
Ronan went without a word, disappearing behind the corner to the foyer and the stairs.
"How is your toothache, baby?" Adam asked. "Any better?"
Opal answered him with a sob and buried a snotty nose into his t-shirt.
Parrish looked up at him like he expected Declan to say something.
Kids weren't Declan's thing.
Parrish adjusted Opal in his arms, rocking back and forth again, until Ronan came back downstairs, holding a tube of tooth gum gel and liquid Tylenol.
Parrish adjusted Opal again, this time holding her under legs so she was sitting up more in his arms. Ronan didn't even stop, just unscrewed the Tylenol and gave her a spoonful — she opposed a little, hiding under Adam's chin, but gave in easily enough after he shushed her again.
Parrish rocked her some more when Ronan went to the sink and washed his hands and put some of the gel on his finger.
"Come on, you little gremlin," Ronan said, calm. "You know that's going to help."
Parrish caressed her hair but she still shook her head, whimpering.
"Open up, munchkin," Ronan added.
She did, after three or so tries, and Ronan actually managed to coat her gum in the gel.
As soon as he was done, she flattered in Parrish's arms and Ronan brushed her hair again.
Opal, for most of the time, wasn't exactly a normal child — she didn't need the constant attention, could eat a lot of weird stuff without a trip to ER or could be left alone for long periods of time. She wasn't a baby, so she couldn't be anyone's baby.
But for some of the time, she was an actual child, living with Ronan and his boyfriend, being partially dependant on them. She wasn't a baby but they were parenting her.
"You could give her some ice cubes," he said because nothing else came to mind. His common sense screamed, You're nineteen, you can't parent a child together, but he said instead, "That's what mom used to do."
Ronan went to the fridge immediately.
Opal fell asleep fifteen minutes later.
After Ronan took her from Adam's hands and carried upstairs, Adam, in shortly, explained.
Opal bit something, yesterday's evening, and ruined two of her teeth, which for a creature that hadn't felt any major pain yet was traumatising. Ronan went to get a baby Tylenol and tooth gel from the closest open pharmacy while Adam stayed with her. She just fell asleep when Declan came by.
"Ronan called every dentist within twenty miles but no one had any appointments left for today," he said. "So we're taking her to the dentist tomorrow morning."
We.
Declan probably should be protesting, should be intervening, should be doing something. But somehow, he just felt proud.
Ronan was impulsive, greedy and selfish. Probably shouldn't be trusted with himself, not to mention a kid.
But he wasn't screwing up, yet, and Declan hoped he would never screw this up. Whatever this was.
8 notes · View notes
smol-and-grumpy · 4 years
Text
Something Just Like This - CH33
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.
Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, but also so much angst. I’m sorry.
WC: 3799
A/N: I posted two chapters back to back. Please read CH32 first if you haven’t yet.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Y/N’s busy with class for the next two months, finishing four paintings for a school exhibition and of course Dean ends up buying one of them (he wanted to buy all four but she told him that they only have space for one painting at the apartment), and spends a ridiculous amount on it, too. But the money is for a good cause so she let him. 
He shakes hands with her teachers at the exhibit and she thinks it’s ridiculous how everyone is fawning over him, teachers and students alike. She can’t blame them though, Dean can turn on his business persona like a switch and he’s charming, too. Which, in hindsight, put her in this position as his girlfriend in the first place. 
The girls of her class corner him, and she just laughs when he looks over to her as she talks to another male classmate, his eyes are screaming for help. 
She decides to help him after a long while, goes to his rescue and pulls him to the side, ignoring the eyes of the girls because they are clearly shooting her daggers. 
“Thanks, but you could have come sooner.” He places his hand on the small of her back, guides her out of sight of spectators. 
“Dean Winchester the gangster needs help?” She grins cockily and he bends down to steal a kiss.
“Oh my god, they are really together?” Someone hisses through their breath and it sounds like someone from her class that she doesn’t really socialize a lot and both Dean and her grin into the kiss when they heard it.
“You’re stealing my thunder, Dean.” Y/N laughs, braces her hand on his firm chest and pushes him away a little.
“‘M sorry.” He chuckles, brushes over his lips with his thumb, checking if she left lipstick traces on them. “I overheard a girl telling her friend that she wants to call me daddy and wants me to wreck her pu—”
“—Oh my god,” She huffs out, clasps a hand over her mouth for a brief moment, “Please tell me you didn’t say anything weird.”
Dean shrugs, “I winked at her and she ran away.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “I guess it’s time to go home before you scare all the people away.”
“Awe, come on, not everyone!” Dean wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. “Only girls who bite off more than they can chew.”
“Did I bite off more than I can chew, too?”
“Oh,” He pecks her lips. “You can chew perfectly and swallow it all down too.”
She groans with an eye roll, making Dean laugh out loud.
***
“This will be our last meeting.” Y/N says as Linda sits down on the bench next to her. 
“Yes.” Linda agrees. “It just pains me that I’m not able to say proper goodbye to you.”
“I still have your number.” 
“But I won’t have yours.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll contact you if I will need you to bail me out.” Y/N jokes but Linda’s not laughing.
Linda sighs, “Look, I know it’s us who make you do this, but you can still back out. I just want you to be absolutely su—”
“—I am.”
“Good.” Linda nods.
“One week, Linda. I’ll send you the details.”
“As soon as I have that, you’ll get the details for your part of the deal. All your records will be erased.”
“And you will give Dean a fair deal.”
Linda nods, “I promised and you signed the papers.”
“You won’t dig for other crimes. And it means that he can walk free.” She has to make sure, even if she already knows.
“You have my word. We’re concentrating on the corrupt mayor.”
“Good.” Then with the next breath she adds, “Anything new on Ketch?”
“No. Nothing. It’s like he disappeared from the earth.”
“I’m sorry I could be no help.”
“That’s okay, you have enough on your plate right now.”
Y/N parts with a courtesy nod, her eyes are teary. She’s never going to see the woman again who took care of her as if she was her own.
Back home, she starts on writing a letter, crumbles up each and every page she starts because there are just no words that she could write that would make him understand what she’s going to do. 
She abandons the letter pretty soon and instead, she draws. This time, she draws both of them. They’re in bed, with him holding her, the two cats snuggle up to them. She leaves the drawing by her bedside table.
 ***
 Dean’s been in high spirit in the week that leads up to their coup. He’s away more often but he’s always in a good mood when he comes back.
Like tonight, when he comes home and waves a black manila folder in front of her face. “Take a look.”
“Will I find dead people in there?” Y/N asks suspiciously, “Because I just had a big bar of chocolate and I don’t think my stom—”
“—Jesus, just take a look.” He laughs.
Bubbles sits on her lap and she has to readjust to look at the folder without disturbing the cat. She opens it to find different pages of property listings. All of them are somewhere remote, with a huge backyard. The houses are different sizes, but they all have the same style. They’re mostly old and need a lot of renovating and they are spacious. They’re also all fairly priced. 
One of them she really likes, it has four bedrooms, a big attic and there’s a porch that goes around the house. It also has the old style window shutters which she guesses it’s more for decorative reasons. The house used to be white but the paint is coming off. Also the shutters used to be dark blue but the color’s been washed off as well. On the next page she sees the aerial picture of the house. The backyard is a huge meadow, dropping down to what seems like a large pond. 
Dean has since leaned over the sofa and watches her as she looks through the pages and then he asks, “What do you think? You like it?”
“Yeah,” She replies. “They’re all beautiful. They need a lot of work, though.”
He shrugs, “I’ll have time.” Then he adds, “Which one do you like best?”
She feels guilty and doesn’t really want to choose, if she’s honest. “I can’t choose.”
“Come on,” He smiles and it’s genuine, she can see that, “I like this the best.” Dean points his index finger to the listing that’s also her favorite. The house with access to the pond and space in the backyard to hold their own music festival.
“Yeah,” She agrees. “That’s beautiful.”
He inches closer to her, his breathing a mere inches from her ear and she looks down at the listing, hoping that he doesn’t notice the flush of her face. “Can you imagine? Living there? I mean, with me?”
“Dean,”
“Not now, but if you can imagine it, I’ll buy it, fix the place up.”
“It’s not right for me to tell you what you should do with your money. If you want to buy something it should be because you want to and my opinion should not matter.”
“But it does to me.” He noses at her temple, kisses her there after.
“I know.” She mumbles and then she sighs and answers, not because she wants to but because it seems easier that way. “Yeah, I like that one the best, too.”
Dean grins from ear to ear. “Awesome.”
Thankfully they couldn’t talk about it more because Dean has gotten a call and has to go. He kisses her forehead, then her lips. “When this is all over, I’ll have more time, okay?”
“Okay.” She tries to smile.
 ***
 Dean’s in his office, decides to spend the last night before the coup at home because he had the feeling that he was neglecting her, which he really didn’t but she guesses that he too could feel something coming up.
So instead of going out, he excused himself to make a video call from his office. “I’ll be in there for about two hours. If I should not come out by then, please come get me.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I wanna spend the night with you.”
He gets up and adjusts his pj pants. She has to laugh, kind of hopes that the people in his video call would see his pants. Hopefully, he has to get up and get something and then someone who has some balls will call him out on it. 
 *
 Two hours came and went and Dean’s still holed up in there. 
She decides to go get him but she gets out of her clothes first, drops them along the way to his office and knocks twice before she goes in there naked.
Dean’s jaw drops when he sees her and for a moment she has to laugh because he just stares.
“Dean? You still listening?” 
She knows that voice. It’s Cas.
“Huh,” Dean looks back at his screen, “Yeah, I’m here.”
Y/N grins cockily and lowers herself to her knees, crawls under Dean’s desk.
She’s kneeling below the desk and places her hand on Dean’s knees, pushing them apart and she looks up to see Dean still staring at his screen, his lips between his teeth. 
He risks a glance down and looks at her grumpily before he rolls his eyes but he doesn’t stop her as she works her hands up his thighs. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his pants. He even helps her, lifts his ass so she can push the pants down to his knees.
“Yeah,” Dean clears his throat. “We should go through the timelines again one last time.”
She grins as she kisses the tip of his dick, it’s already half hard and she hasn’t done anything yet.
“Tomo— holy!” Dean shouts as she takes him into her mouth and sucks him. “Sorry, the cat.” Dean apologizes and then he goes on. “Anyway, tomorrow our trucks will leave an hour earlier than the train.”
She gobbles him down, tries not to make a choking sound.
Dean has a poker face but one of his hands comes down, strokes her cheek as she looks up at him with her mouth full of his cock. 
Taking it out, she holds his dick up, works her tongue on his balls and goes deeper to his rim. He leans back a little, giving her more access. 
“Ffff,” Dean hisses through his teeth before he asks a question into his screen. “Everyone knows when they have to be where, right?”
There’s a lot of Yes and Yeah’s in reply to Dean’s question. “1.30AM the train’s gonna leave.”
Cas takes over and she’s back at licking and sucking him and even though he shouldn’t, Dean’s stealing a glance down at her, licking his own lips as he sees her sucking at his cock his hand takes the strand of hair that has fallen into her face and tucks it back behind her ear.
“Thirty-six hours, gentlemen. Thirty-six hours from the start to the finish line.” Dean says and she knows that he means that it’ll take thirty-six hours for the last truck to reach its final destination and from there on, it gets loaded into other vehicles but that won’t be Dean’s concern anymore.
“We’ll work in shifts to track everything,” Dean goes on and she tickles the head of his cock with her tongue, making him pause to take a breather. When Dean has himself under control, he goes on. “I want everyone holed up in the bunker. And I swear if someone screws this up, he won’t live to see the end of those thirty-six hours.” The last syllable came out as a little choked moan. 
“You okay, Dean?” Cas asks and she’s trying not to laugh out loud. Thankfully there’s a fairly huge cock in her mouth. 
“Yeah,” Dean looks down at her, his expression unreadable. “Anyway, gotta go, this cat is driving me crazy. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
He doesn’t wait for his men to say goodbye, instead he clicks on disconnect and slams the cover of his laptop down, his large hands grab at her arms, pulling her up and she has to let his dick pop out of her mouth.
Dean places her on his lap so she’s straddling him and he lays his forehead on hers. “You’ve been a naughty little kitten.” He mumbles and kisses her, his arms wraps themselves around her middle. 
“You said I could come get you.” She says as they part and Dean chuckles.
“Not like that.”
“Well, did you not like it?” Her arms are around his neck, and she nibbles at his ear, sucks in his earlobe.
“Love it.” He says and then he lifts her up a little, “Put it in before I’m dying here.”
She giggles as her hand finds his throbbing cock, positions it below her pussy and sits down. She moans out in pleasure and throws her head back when she feels him filling her.
Dean takes the opportunity, leans forward to suck at her throat, kisses down to her chest.
He lets her choose her own pace, kisses her and talks to her like he always does. It’s nothing hard and fast this time. It’s slow and sensual — love making, not fucking. Dean takes her nipple into his mouth, sucks at them, making her arch her back. He praises her, tells her how beautiful she looks when she comes on his cock. It gets slippery and wet and she’s sure that the chair needs some serious cleaning after. 
It’s good, so good and she cries into the next kiss. 
Dean comes deep and hard. Holds her close and stays like that for a long time. “I love you.” He whispers and she buries her face into the crook of his neck. 
He’s about to move when she tells him to stay like this. “Just a while longer, please.”
He relaxes in the chair, letting her lay her head on his chest as he trails his fingertips over her back, traces along the bumps of her spine.
“Come on,” Dean says, and turns his chair around, gets up with her still in his arms and her legs wrapped around his middle. She cringes as his soft dick slips out with a squelch. 
Dean kicks off his pj pants as he proceeds to walk out of his office. 
“Where are we going?” 
“Taking a bath.” He says with a bright smile but then he notices the trail of clothes she left behind. “And then we clean up the mess.”
She laughs against his throat where her face is still buried.
 ***
 Y/N zaps through the channels while Dean paces around the apartment, he’s on the phone as always. Understandably so, as tonight’s the night.
He hangs up, fetches his overnight duffel and walks over to her, takes his time to sit down and she abandons the remote, climbs onto his lap. It has become her favorite place throughout the months.
“What’s your plan?” Dean asks and she knows he means for the time he’ll be gone which will probably be around forty hours from now on.
“I don’t know, the usual, class, eat, sleep, repeat.” She lies.
“Just no partying when I’m not here, okay?” He has that amused look on his face.
“Yes, daddy.” She grins cockily and he kisses her.
It’s soft and she likes that but it always leaves her wanting more so she goes in, kisses him hard. She closes her eyes, thinks of the things they’ve done, thinks of him and her, thinks of what could never be. She pours everything she has into the kiss. A kiss that says so much. She kisses him, wants him to feel that she’s sorry, she doesn’t mean to and most of all, she wants him to know that she loves him.
She cries into the kiss too, making Dean stop to cup her face, brushing away the tears with his thumb. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Y/N sniffs, “Just worried.” Another lie.
He kisses her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a fraction longer than he normally does. “Don’t be.” 
His fingers skim down her face, and he kisses between her eyebrows, kisses her nose. “Will you be here when I get back?”
She nods. 
Yet, another lie.
Dean smiles. “Good, I got something to tell you when I’m back.”
 *
 She texted Linda about the intel and in turn, Linda has texted her things that she need and a comfortable amount of money was left on her bank account for a head start. 
Y/N packed one backpack with essentials and left everything else, as well as her car, with Dean. 
She walks out of the building, walks to a bus stop that’s more than four miles away and gets into the next bus that arrived. She doesn’t have a plan, she just needs to get out of the city.
Y/N goes into the store in between buses, buys another phone card and drops her old SIM into the trash can outside.
And then she’s off. Doesn’t really know where to go. Doesn’t know what to do but she’s sure that it’s the right decision. At least one of them can be happy and she’s taking the fall. She wants Dean to be able to have the future he desires, one he’s working so hard for — because if Dean doesn’t deserve happiness, no one else really does — even if it means that she’s not part of it. She hopes that one day he’ll see it. Hopes that one day, he’ll forgive her. But most of all, she hopes that he forgets her. 
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  The freight train has been stopped midway, as they predicted it would. But the trucks got over four States by the time and split in all different directions already. That’s a win that Dean takes. 
The train conductor doesn’t have a clue about anything, and the wagons are all empty, so that shouldn’t be a problem either. 
Now they have to wait until all the trucks have reached their destinations.
He texted Y/N after the train got stopped by the Feds but she didn’t answer. He doesn’t dwell on it, thinks that she must be busy so he sits back, and waits with the others, hoping and maybe even praying a little that everything goes as planned. Paints a picture in his head how he would get a Pizza on his way home, how he’s going to tell her that everything he worked so hard for finally fell perfectly into place. 
Dean imagines the time after. Thinks that he’s going to blindfold her and drive her out to the house he bought. Get on his knees right there. He thinks of the words he’s going to say when he wants to persuade her to marry him, hopes that he will get a word out of his mouth at all. 
 *
 “It’s done.” Cas says as he gets off the phone and there’s silence for a full minute because nobody thought that they could pull that shit off. 
And then realization hit and it’s like Holy shit we did it! They shook hands, shoulder bumped, fist bumped and Inias walked in with a dozen beers.
Dean stays and drinks the beer, not because he wants to but because it’s expected from him. But then he excused himself, told his men that he’ll be in touch for a last meeting, already breaking into a run up the stairs of the bunker. 
At home, he parks his car next to hers. So at least she’s home.
“Honey, I’m home!” He calls but realizes that the lights are all off. One the cats came around to greet him.
Dropping his keys into the bowl at the entrance, he walks into the bedroom but she’s not there either. He takes a look into the bathroom, thinking she might take a bath but it’s empty. 
The echoes of his steps on the hardwood floor is kind of disturbing to him. Something’s off. He can feel it.
He tries her art room next, nothing to see there either other than some unfinished paintings. 
On the way back into the living room, he tries calling her but the voice says that the caller can not be reached.
Dean rushes back to the living room, thinks about going out and tries her school when a sheet of paper flutters to the ground from the kitchen counter.
He picks it up, his heart is racing, his hands are shaking. He’s already near tears because he’s not an idiot, he knows it before he even read her words. He crouches down to pick it up and stays down to read it. Thinks that when he gets up, he’s gonna end up down on the floor anyway because his knees feel weak.
 Dear Dean,
I crumbled up so many sheets of paper because no word could express my feelings. No words could ease the pain I’m feeling. No words would be enough to explain my decision to you and make you understand. This is my last try because time is running out. And there’s really just one thing I want to say to you.
I’M SORRY.
I know that you might not accept my apology but I hope that one day, you will.
Now that everything’s over, you can start all over. I wish you happiness Dean. You deserve nothing less.
Y/N
Ps. My love for you was and is real. Never doubt that.
 He balls his fists, making the paper crumble in his hand. 
He doesn’t know how long he stays down there but he wakes from his trance when Bubbles shows up next to him, nuzzles her face against him. One tear drips down the tip of his nose and Dean brushes at it with his hands. “Okay,” He sniffs, “Okay.”
Dean picks up Bubbles and walks her to the feeding dish where Cuddles was already waiting. He sits down with them and they look up at him as if they know what’s going on. 
Pouring their food into their dish, he sits with them, back leaned against the fridge and he waits until they’ve finished eating. Dean knows that he should be mad, should feel angry, should maybe drown himself in alcohol but he can’t bring himself to do anything at all. He feels so many things at the same time, hurt, anger, feels his heart breaking off bit by bit, feels nauseous, and he’s still shaking but above everything, he feels numb.
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CH34
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230 notes · View notes
justcallmehitgirl · 5 years
Text
Good Woman Part 4 (Peter Parker x Female Reader Smut)
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Summary: Peter knows he’s getting in too deep.
Word Count: 4700
Warnings: smut, language, fluff, and some angst.
A/N: Sorry for the delay! I meant to get this chapter out sooner, but I’ve been bar prepping during the day so my writing has been limited to my nights. I’m excited to see where this story goes so I hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are about to get interesting is all I can say for now. As always, thank you for reading! Your support really means a lot to me and inspires me to continue writing. 
(4/21/20): I fixed some typos, grammar mistakes, character inconsistencies, etc. from my original posting. I also made some stylistic changes.
PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE // PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / STORY PAGE 
“You wanna come over and watch ‘Batman v. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ after school? I just downloaded it yesterday!” Ned exclaims, bouncing on his feet excitedly.
Peter glances over, readjusting the strap of his backpack over his shoulder as students hastily brush past them towards the entrance doors, signaling that it’s the end of another day.
He gives Ned a half-smile. “Sorry man, I can’t today. I gotta work on some stuff.”
Ned’s eyes dart around cautiously before leaning in and whispering, “Spider-Man related stuff?” 
Peter shakes his head. “No, just academic decathlon-related stuff.”
Ned knits his brows. “Academic decathlon? But you haven’t been to practice in weeks.”
Peter massages the back of his neck, his forehead creasing. “Yeah about that, I talked to Mr. Harrington and I’m stepping down from the team—”
“Dude, you can’t! You’re the only one who aced Physics, you can’t leave us!”
“Relax Ned, it’s all good cause I’ll be helping out with coaching instead.”
Ned knits his brows. “But Y/N Y/L/N’s in charge of coaching?”
“Yeah, I’m actually meeting up with Y/N after school.”
Ned stops in his tracks, placing a hand on Peter’s arm.
“Wait, I think I hallucinated for a second. What are you doing after school?”
“I’m meeting up with Y/N.”
“Holy shit, you’re seriously going to hang out with Y/N? When did you start talking to Y/N?!” 
“Chill, Ned, it’s not a big deal,” Peter shrugs, continuing to walk forward as Ned follows.
“Not a big deal? She’s one of the prettiest and smartest girls in our school. And you were just saying how hard you’ve been crushing on her for years.”
“Shhh, Ned! Besides, that was like a month ago.”
“So you don’t like her anymore?” Ned asks, raising his brows.
“I never said that.”
“So you’re in love with her?”
“Ned,” Peter groans. “It’s complicated.”
“How? When? I need details, Peter!”
Peter licks his lips, contemplating whether Ned should know the entire story. 
“She just sat next to me in art class the other day and we started talking and then she asked me for help.”
“I can’t believe she asked you for help. You know she doesn’t give any guy at this school the time of day, right?”
“Gee thanks, Ned. And so what? She has a right to spend her time as she wants. She’s a busy person with a lot of responsibilities. She wants to go Ivy League you know.”
Ned just shakes his head. “You got it bad for her, huh?”
Peter rolls his eyes, stopping outside the doors of the library.
“I’m meeting her here.”
“You are one lucky dude.”
If he only knew, Peter thinks.
“Let me come with you,” Ned beams, tugging on Peter’s arm.
“What? No way!”
“C’mon, I need some entertainment this afternoon since you’re bailing on me.”
“Ned. . .”
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then.”
Peter playfully shoves Ned’s shoulder. “Thanks man, I’ll see you later.”
Peter heads inside, taking a quick look over his shoulder to see Ned still watching him intently. He motions for Ned to leave, who throws his arms up in mock frustration as he walks away.
Peter scans the library, his breath quickening as his eyes land on you. sitting at a table by yourself. You’re sitting alone, your chin resting on the palm of your hand with your eyes cast down at a textbook. Peter’s eyes are wide as he gazes at you for a few moments, admiring your serene expression. He’s become so used to being with you alone in the confines of your cozy bedroom, where it’s just the two of you wrapped up in each other, that it’s a bit jarring seeing you in such a similar state in public.
His hands feel clammy, imagining how to interact with you outside your bubble. He wonders if you’ll figure it out. Peter knows you’re smart—he’s sure you’ll figure it out eventually. But lately he’s been wondering what sort of image you’ve built in your mind as to Spider-Man’s true identity. He wonders if you think he’s some sort of suave Tony Stark-type, or a rugged Steve Rogers. 
But he knows for a fact that you’ve probably never considered it could be him: Peter Parker. Peter Parker from Queens with no parents and no money who lives with his aunt in a cramped two-bedroom apartment. The same Peter Parker who spilled milk all over himself in the third grade, got teased every day in middle school, and was too much of a coward to tell you to your face how much he likes you.
Peter frowns and wonders if he’s actually jealous of his alter ego—his alter ego who got to hold you, kiss you, and touch you all over. He thinks he’s going crazy. But he knows that even though him and Spider-Man are one in the same, one got to call you his while the other would only ever pine for you.
The more he ponders, the more he just wants to turn right back around, walk out of the building, and watch “Batman v. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” with Ned. He briefly thinks it’ll be easier to just make up some excuse to stay away from you at school. 
But there’s a part of him that simply aches to be around you as himself and give you the things that Spider-Man can’t. His heart pounds, silently hoping that maybe one day he will.  
Peter draws in a deep breath and rakes a hand through his hair before continuing towards you. He grips the strap of his backpack. “Hey.”
You look up and smile, eyes bright. “Hi Peter.”
Peter gulps, tugging on the collar of his shirt as he slips into the seat across from you. “What’re reading?”
“U.S. Government,” you respond, lifting it up to show him the red, white, and blue cover like you’re Vanna White. 
He chuckles lightly and unzips his backpack to take out his laptop. “Who do you have?”
“Mr. Grant. He’s tough, but he really prepares you for his exams. Plus,” you lean in close, voice hushed, “I think he’s secretly a softie, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Duly noted.”
“Are you taking U.S. History now with Mrs. Taylor?”
Peter nods, booting up his laptop. 
“Focus on the chapter takeaways at the end of each section. That’s where she usually gets her exam questions from. Oh, and try to volunteer a lot. She usually bumps up your grade if she sees you making an effort.”
“That’s super helpful, thanks,” Peter smiles.
“Of course,” you smile back and close your textbook. You both just smile at each other for a moment before you blink, looking away to start up your laptop. Peter clears his throat, cheeks flushed as he looks back at his computer screen.
“So, I was thinking,” you continue, “that we could go off of Mr. Harrington’s practice questions first. Then we can look online and compile some of our own. I found a bunch of older questions that they’ve asked in the past which we can use as a guide or something. Sound good?”
“Yeah definitely. I mean, I defer to the expert.”
“Great. Oh!” You reach down to dig through your backpack. “I brought index cards. I usually write the questions down on them so it’s easier to go through later.” 
You fish out a few unopened packs before reaching across the table to offer them to Peter. He reaches over to take them, fingers lightly brushing against yours. 
“Sorry,” he blushes, gripping the index cards tightly in his grasp.
“You’re fine,” you wave. “Thanks again for helping me with this. I was thinking about it more, and I realize I may have cornered you into it. I can be a little pushy.”
“Not at all,” Peter blurts quickly. “You didn’t corner me into it and you’re not pushy. I’m happy to help, and I’m pretty glad I can apart of the team in some way so I guess I should be the one thanking you for asking me.”
You smile. “We’ll call it even then. I feel the same too, by the way. I really miss being on the team if I’m being honest.”
“Why did you quit?”
You sigh heavily and shrug. “My course load is more intense this year so I had to make some changes. Plus I tutor after school so that’s absorbed a lot of my time.”
Peter cocks his head. “You tutor?”
“Yup, sixth and seventh grade math at Queens Rock Middle,” you beam.
“That’s really cool. Do you like it?”
“I love it. I feel like I’m really making a difference in their lives, which is pretty rewarding.”
“Yeah, I. . . uh. . . I wish I was helping people like you do,” he says lamely
Well, besides saving New York from impending doom from time to time, of course, he thinks.
“Well not to sign you up for something else, but they could always use more volunteers.”
Peter squints his eyes playfully. “I feel like you have a secret agenda going on here.”
“Of course, I need to groom a protege to take my place. It’s part of my evil master plan.”
“I doubt you have an evil bone in your body.”
You raise your brow. “Wanna bet?” 
You eye him deviously, and Peter gulps—feeling a wave of tension blanket over you both. You suddenly laugh.
“I’m just kidding! Lighten up, Peter,” you tease.
Peter gives you a lopsided grin. He watches as your gaze lowers onto his mouth. Your smile falters. 
He furrows his brows. “What?”
You blink and look away. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I was just thinking we have a lot to get through this afternoon so we should get on it,” you murmur, voice tight.
Peter simply nods in response, mouth settling in a hard line as you turn your attention towards your computer screen.
You sit in silence for the next hour. Peter chews on his bottom lip while occasionally stealing a few glances over at you. You keep your eyes cast downward, attention fixed on scribbling down questions on the index cards laid out in front of you. He watches as a piece of hair falls over your face, and he clenches his fist to stop himself from reaching over to tuck it behind your ear.
“Hey Y/N.” 
You both look up. Peter’s eyes immediately narrows while his jaw tightens.
“Hi Brad,” you greet, voice even and stoic. Brad’s eyes dart between you and Peter before settling on you, ignoring Peter entirely.
“So, are you ready for the Calc test on Monday?”
You give a half-shrug and respond, “I think so, although I’m struggling a bit with derivatives.”
“Same,” Brad breathes, throwing his hands in the air. “I was struggling like crazy when Mrs. Park was first explaining it."
You chuckle, “Agreed.”
“Well, if you’re still struggling with it, w-would you maybe want to study together this weekend? I’m a big fan of study buddies.”
Peter grips his pen tightly, feeling it start to snap in his hand. He wants to shout, Back off, Brad. She’s mine. Peter immediately admonishes himself—recognizing that such an outburst would be entirely weird and inappropriate. He knows you aren’t his, or even Spider-Man’s. You didn’t belong to anybody.
“Oh that’s so nice, I really appreciate the offer, Brad. But I prefer to study by myself. I’m not really great studying with other people, tend to get too distracted and stuff.”
Peter can sense that you notice Brad’s look of defeat so you add politely, “I’ll definitely let you know if I change my mind though.”
“Yeah, of course. It’s no problem, Y/N. I’m free whenever.”
You nod and plaster a smile on your face. Peter’s forehead creases as he watches Brad continue to gawk at you. You blink and smack your lips together.  “So. . . um, me and Peter have to get back to writing up questions for academic decathlon.”
Your voice shakes Brad out of his stupor, face flushing. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll. . . uh. . . see you later.”
He waves awkwardly and hastily scurries away. You shake your head and continue working.
“I think he likes you,” Peter pipes in, eyes cast down as he busily scribbles on an index card.
You glance up, nose crinkling. “Brad? No way.”
“He was practically drooling over you,” Peter remarks.
“You think so?”
Peter purses his lips. “I’m sure of it.”
You smile. “Brad’s not a bad guy.”
“Are you. . . like. . . interested?”
You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. “No, not at all. Brad’s nice, but I wouldn’t want to go out with him.”
“Oh, okay,” Peter mumbles.
“Plus, just between us, I—I’m already seeing someone actually.”
Peter perks up at your response, but he keeps his eyes cast down. “Really? Do I know him?”
“No, he doesn’t go to Midtown.”
“College guy, huh?”
You laugh. “Umm… no. Well, I don’t think so actually.”
“Is it serious?”
You bite your lip. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Well, he sounds like a really lucky guy.”
“No, I'm pretty sure I’m the lucky one,” you beam, a flush creeping on your face as you turn your attention back to your index cards. 
Peter quickly glances at you while the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.
Peter does not move at first, body pressed near your window as he observes you.
You’re lying on your bed, a pillow tucked under your chest as your eyes scan your computer screen. He takes in the sight of you, from your oversized sweatshirt to your form-fitting black leggings. You toy with a lock of hair, the light emanating from the computer softly illuminating your face.
Peter finally lifts his hand to lightly knock, watching your head jerk in his direction. You smile brightly, waving your hand to motion for him to enter. He obeys, pushing open the window and slipping inside. You quickly shut your laptop close, moving it aside. You sit up as he approaches you, lifting up his mask to give you a kiss.
“How are you?” you ask against his lips.
“Better now that I’m with you.”
“You’re such a sap,” you tease.
“I can’t help it, I’m with the girl of my dreams.”
You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Are you just trying to butter me up?”
“Me? Not at all.”
You shake your head and look away bashfully.
“Hey,” he says, lifting your chin up with his finger so you’re looking at him. “I want to show you something.”
You tilt your head, and he grabs your hand. You stand up, and he leads you towards the window, gently tugging you along as he pulls his mask back down. You turn your head, and quickly glance over at your bedroom door. Will your parents notice that you’re gone?, you think. Would they freak out? Call the cops? Should you risk it? 
But those thoughts are quickly squashed by the warm feeling in your chest as you bend down to crawl through the window, his hands lightly grasping your hips in support. As your feet land on the fire escape, your body straightens, your eyes looking up at the night sky.
Peter stands beside you, and you turn, brows quirked. “Where are we going?”
“Do you trust me?”
You nod in response, and he pulls you close to him. He wraps his arms around your waist. “Hold onto me,” he whispers, voice hot and soft against the shell of your ear.
You loop your arms around his neck. “Okay,” you breathe. 
You glance down, body tensing and bottom lip trembling. 
“Are you okay?” He runs his arms over your hips.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Ready?”
“No,” you chuckle nervously.
Peter peers down at you, his voice soft and soothing to compensate for his covered face. “Hey, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 
You reluctantly nod and Peter exhales deeply. He takes a few steps backward before leaping off the fire escape, your face immediately burying in the crook of his neck as you shut your eyes tightly. Your hair whips in the wind as Peter swings over the bustling city below, your grip tightening around his shoulders as you let out a surprised shriek at he momentum.
“Don’t be afraid!” Peter shouts, glancing down at you.
You breathe in deeply before lifting your head and opening your eyes. You blink as you hesitantly looks down, your eyes roaming over the cars zipping through the streets, the lights shining from street lamps, and the crowds of people drifting down the sidewalks. 
“Everything looks so tiny,” you murmur, awe transforming your face.
“It’s cool, right?”
You look up, your eyes glistening as you nod excitedly. He grins underneath his mask, tightening his hold on you as he continues swinging from building to building. Your wide eyes dart around, mesmerized by the sight as you clutch him close as your heart beats wildly.
Neither of you had been in love before, but the thought crosses both your minds: “Maybe this is love.”
He feels you nuzzle your face against his chest, your body still and relaxed as you continue absorbing the sights and sounds surrounding you.
Peter eventually slows his movements, spotting a good place to stop and rest. 
Once his feet meet the rooftop, you untangle yourself from his arms, jumping up and down exuberantly. 
“Holy shit, that was amazing! I can’t believe you can do that all the time!”
“It’s one of the perks of the job.”
“Does it ever get old?”
Peter shakes his head. “No way, sometimes I’m just jumping out of my skin to get out here. To be above the ground, it makes me feel like a bigger part of the world.”
“Thank you for this.” 
“I know I can’t give you much right now, and I can’t take you out on dates dressed like. . . this, but I wanted to show you a little piece of my world.”
“I really appreciate that.” 
You pause for a moment, your forehead creasing before you continue, “Do you think you’d do this forever? The whole superhero thing I mean?” 
“I honestly I don’t know. I feel like I should though. You see, when you can do the things that I can do and you don’t and then the bad things happen. . . they happen because you didn’t do anything to stop them.”
“That sounds like quite a lot to carry on your shoulders.”
Peter gives you a half-shrug. “You get used to it.”
You nod before looking away, your head tilting as you gaze up at the dark sky. 
Peter watches you, your mouth 
“It’s quite a sight,” you murmur.
His eyes never leave you as he responds, “It is.”
You hug yourself, your body shivering as a cool autumn breeze envelopes you.
“Cold?”
“Just a little.”
He pulls you into his arms, hugging you close as he strokes your back. He feels you relax against him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his suit.   
“My brown-eyed boy,” you hum softly.
You both begin swaying to the tune. Peter’s movements are a little clumsy, but your smiles encourage him to continue, even extending his arm to spin you around, earning him a giggle. 
He slides his hand down your back, his fingers brushing against your bottom. As he starts to move his hand, you look up.
“You don’t have to stop. I like it when you touch me,” you whisper. 
Peter licks his lips, feeling the familiar heat rising in his belly. His eyes dart around the empty rooftop over to the surrounding buildings.
“But. . . “
You take his hand, placing it over your covered center. He tilts his head, pulling his mask above his mouth as his throat bobs.
“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”
“I don’t care. I want you,” you say, your voice husky.
Peter just nods dumbly, gently grabbing the back of your neck to press his lips against yours. The kiss is slow and soft, his hand resting below your ear as your breaths mingle. You press into him, your heart beating rapidly in tandem with his. Your tongues dance for dominance, the intensity building as your hand travels down his spine, his body quivering from your touch.
You pull your mouth away, turning your body in his arms to press your back against his chest. He runs his hands along your body, feeling his way from your waist up to your chest. You turn your head to kiss him again, moaning in his mouth as he massages your breast through your sweatshirt. 
Your lips fall away from his, your mouth gaping as his other hand hovers over the waistband of your leggings.
“Please,” you whine. 
Without missing a beat, he dips his hand beneath the fabric, his teasing fingers making you tremble. You lean your head back to rest on his shoulder as he runs his fingers over lips, parting them slowly. He start to massage your clit, your wetness trickling onto his hand to help his movements. 
The hand massaging your breast snakes underneath your sweatshirt, your nipple hardening instantly under his thumb. You arch your back, pushing your ass against him.
You grip onto his forearms as you rock against his hand, increasing the pressure on your clit. Your eyes flutter open, your eyes fixed on the stars above you.
His fingers briefly leave your clit as he pushes them inside you. Your face flushes as your tight opening clenches around him, his touch drawing even more slickness from your folds.
“Do this feel good?” he asks, his voice strained.
You nod. “You make me feel so good,” you moan. “You make me feel beautiful.” 
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”
He removes his slick fingers from inside you, and you softly mewl. He continues caressing your clit, finger rubbing in steady circles. You tighten your grip on his arms, body tense. You grind erratically against him, his hard length nestled between your cheeks. 
You start to babble incoherent words, filled with breathy gasps and moans.
“I want you to come for me,” he whispers, quickening his movements on your clit.
He places his lips on the side of your throat, licking and sucking your pulse point. You cry out loudly as you start to shake in his arms as you cum. He slips his fingers back inside of you, and your pussy clenches around him. He rocks against you, increasing the pressure against his crotch.
His lips leave your skin, head falling forward as his orgasm follows. He grunts, thrusting against you in short jerks as he releases.
He holds you firmly against him, cupping your pussy in his hand as his thrusts slow. Your body slumps against him,  He turns you around in his arms to softly kiss you, as you practically melt in his embrace.
“You really know how to show a girl a good time,” you smile dreamily.
He smooths his hand over your hair. “You’d be the first.”
“You’re just being modest. I bet you get all the ladies in real life.”
Peter chuckles. “Maybe in a different life.”
“In a different life, huh? Well maybe in a different life I can say that I met you somewhere? Like when those couples say they didn’t meet on Tinder or something.”
He smiles. “Okay, where did we meet?”
You bite your lip. “Umm, how about on the bus?”
“The bus?”
“Yes, ‘Speed’ was one of my favorite movies growing up so I thought it was kind of romantic that Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock got together at the end.”
He shakes his head and chuckles. He strokes your lower back. “Mental noted. Please continue.”
“Okay, hmm. . . how about I was coming home from school one day. All the seats were taken so I had to stand. . . but then you saw me and you were such a gentleman that you gave me your seat. Then we introduced ourselves, and you complimented my sweatshirt, which happened to be my favorite Mickey Mouse one.”
He hums in approval as you continue, “And then you saw the math book in my hands and—”
“And we talked about your love for math,” he finishes. 
You look up and grin widely. “Yes, exactly. And then I noticed your Star Wars shirt and we talked about how I haven’t seen the new Star Wars movies.”
“Wait, how have you not seen the new Star Wars movies?”
“I’m a sucker for the originals. I still refuse to watch the prequels.”
“Blasphemy I tell you,” he teases. “But please, keep going.”
“But alas, we arrived at my stop so I had to leave, but you followed me even though your stop was blocks away. You walked me to the doorstep of my apartment building and then we exchanged numbers.”
“And we texted all day and night,” Peter murmurs.
“And then I saw you on the bus the next day, and the next day, and the next day. And then you finally asked me out.”
“I like our story.”
“Yeah, me too,” you yawn.
“C’mon, let’s get you home. It’s getting late and I gotta get out of this suit,” he softly laughs, placing a delicate kiss on your temple.
You knit your brows together, opening your mouth but the words fall from your lips as realization dawns on. You glance down at his crotch, your cheeks reddening.
“Are you sure you can take me home in that. . . state?”
“I’m not sure, this has never happened before,” he blushes.
You bite your lip to stop the giggle from escaping your mouth. You place a chaste kiss on his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“Ready?”
You nod as he pulls his mask over the rest of his face. You inhale deeply as he leaps from the building your body still buzzing from your orgasm. You close your eyes, resting your head against him as the wind rustles through your hair.
Once Peter lands on your fire escape, he nuzzles his face against your hair before easing you down gently, his arms still wrapped around you. 
“When will I see you again?”
He strokes the side of your face, closing your eyes as you lean into his touch.
“I don’t know. My patrolling schedule is. . . unpredictable.”
“Okay,” you smile weakly, shoulders slumping.
Peter bows his head, wishing he could wipe the disappointed look from your face. “In our story, I take you to my favorite pizza spot.”
"Go on.”
“And then we get ice-cream. . . go to Astoria Park and sit in one of those benches to watch the sunset.”
“Does this date end with a goodnight kiss at my front door?”
“Sure. . . then I can awkwardly explain to your parents why I’m kissing their daughter.”
“My parents would love you.”
“They would?”
“Mhmm, as long as you don’t tell them that we sneak around at night, of course.”
He laughs. “Sounds fair.”
Peter wants that more than anything. He craves normalcy with you wants—he wants to meet your parents, walk you home from school, take you to the movies. He wants you to hang out with him and Ned and show you all the Star Wars prequels. He wants to call you his. 
Peter closes his eyes, hoping this never ends. But soon another thought creeps up in his mind that makes his throat feel tight and chest hurt. He frowns, instinctively clutching you closer in his arms. 
He knows that everything ends eventually.
Tag list: @thatpeterparkerfan / @professionalphangirluniverse / @julimelodi / @sighharrington / @merelymarianne / @soloseb / @superspideyy / @babyjesuscat / @stardust-ghost / @oh-annaa / @iloveyouironman / @nyeddleblog / @bloominess / @itsjust-evalyn / @shawnmendes-thewriter / @cotton-octopus / @ghostofdrfluke / @imofficiallyobsessed / @charismas-world / @f1zzy-izzy / @kissykissykissykissykissy / @thepeterfuckinparker / @ahajalen1 / @vhgirlforever / @sargentjamesbarnes / @icecoldghost / @space-princesssss / @undiadeestos / @teenageeggsneckpasta / @ lindabanri02222 / @franbway / @5sosuperntaural / @spookyanairwin / @spideyluke / @writing-panda-uwu / @yanderepeterparker / @tomshufflepuff / @slutforbuckybarnes / @mindset-jupiter / @mutuallynotmutual / @maybemona
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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years
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Finding Peace In Another Part 19
A/N: T/W: Discussion of drug addiction and dating violence. This chapter is coming out a few days early and I’m sorry for the delay, I've been really busy with school. I hope everyone is coping well with the virus and isn't going to stir crazy. Also note that this is a work of free fiction and as such I’m not sticking to exact US immigration protocol. Much love!
A few weeks after my dinner with Scott, things were going well. His suspicions were quelled, Monty and I were good and there were no lingering issues with me hanging out with Scott. Since things had calmed down some, I decided to partake in my new favourite pastime. Recently I started surprising Justin at Monet’s after his shifts.
“Hey Justin, can I get peach tea and a raspberry scone please?”
“Coming right up. Usual table?”
“Depends, do you have leftovers?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see. I’m beginning to think you’re only using me for a baked good fix.”
“Maybe. I do bake as a hobby though, so its definitely more that I like you.”
He laughed as I took my drink and wandered over to the table. I people watched while he finished his shift.
“So, how are things with you?” I asked, casually after he sat down.
“You know, things are going. Clay is kind of oblivious to things, mom and dad are trying to judge what they should and shouldn’t push me on. The usual stuff. You?”
“Yeah. Things are going with me too. Dad still occasionally pops in town for a few days before going to wherever he needs to again. Still acts like I don’t essentially live on my own. I think he’s going to be in town for like two weeks sometime soon so that will be interesting.”
“Oh?” He asked, surprised. “Interesting how?”
I had to be careful how I answered. Man, this hiding our relationship thing is getting hard. “Well, he could decide to actually parent me. I’m an adult though so that could cause problems. May end up being a very silent couple of weeks.”
“Sounds like a trip.” He said, laughing.
“Justin. The last time he was home for any length of time, he told me to go look for a job.”
“Uh, why?”
“I have no idea. I can’t even legally work here. Dad’s work did something with the paperwork or something because I am still in high school. I literally can’t work, even if I wanted to.”
“I know. That makes no sense. Could tell him to send you home really.” He said, jokingly. There was a skepticalness to his tone that seemed to indicate he was nervous for my answer.
“What? No. I have finally finished settling in and have begun to think of Evergreen County as my second home. Alberta will always be my home, but that doesn’t mean I want to move back. I still don’t understand your reluctance for universal healthcare but that’s fine. Technically it hasn’t been long enough to be removed from Alberta Healthcare, but I’m not about to go to the trouble of going all the way home to deal with something that can be dealt with here. Dad haggled and made them give him really good insurance to move here and give up the free healthcare.”
“Okay good. Because we like you and don’t want you to leave.”
We talked about some school stuff for a while before I noticed him start to seem a little restless. I knew about his addiction issues and we talked about it often. “Hey, you still with me Justin?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry what were we talking about?”
“Math test, but that’s not important. How are you doing right now?” I asked, subtly referencing the possible cause of his restlessness.
He sighed before answering, “I’m doing okay I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it? We can go for a walk if you’re not comfortable talking here.”
After a moment he nodded. I got up and went to order us two coffees to go while he waited, trying to organize his thoughts.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s go. Your usual?”
I rolled my eyes at him. Obviously.
We left the shop and wandered around a bit before he broke the silence. “It’s just harder than I expected it to be. Even with going to meetings, it’s hard to manage sometimes.”
“I get it. Have you talked to your sponsor at all?”
“I call him every afternoon to check in but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard. And I want to talk to Jess about it, but I don’t want to scare her or push her away. And I want to talk to mom and dad about it but I don’t want them to be mad or….”
“Or what Justin?”
“Or kick me out or something? I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t happen, but I hear you and I understand what you mean.” We sat on a park bench and people watched for a while. “You should tell Jess. Trust me when I tell you she is probably going to figure something out sooner or later.”
He looked at me in surprise, “You…?”
“No, not me. My ex-boyfriend was a prescription drug addict. Percocet was his drug of choice. He was in quasi-recovery, still drank and smoked weed so not actually trying stay sober, when we started dating. It wasn’t pills though so I wasn’t going to push the issue. But as time went on, he started using again and tried to hide it from me. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out. Things got… bad towards the end. Not that you would ever… just. I knew.”
“Oh. I-I didn’t know. Are you like, okay?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t that bad. If we stayed together it would have been worse, but thankfully we ended up breaking up after he went on a bender and I said enough was enough. But we aren’t talking about me, we are talking about you.”
“Do you think she would understand?”
“I think so. It might be hard at first, but I think she will. And she needs to hear it from you, not figure it out on her own like I did or be told by someone else. That will make it easier.”
“And my parents?”
“If you want, I can go with you to talk to them.”
“I think that would be good, yeah.”
“What do you want to do Justin?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what do you need? Do you need to go to more meetings? Do you need someone to take you to meetings? Do you need to consider going to rehab? What do you need?”
“I don’t know. I know I need help. I just don’t know where to start. Why?”
“Because I want to help you. You’re my friend. And your parents will ask, so maybe thinking about it before you talk to them would be helpful. If not though, I understand. And if you need anything, just call me. Okay? Day or night.”
“Okay, I will. Thanks Becca.”
We chatted randomly for a while again before calling it a night and parting ways.
The next day went smoothly as well. At least until lunch that is. The guys were goofing off as usual and since Scott had seemed to quell his suspicions at least for now, Monty and I didn’t have to walk on eggshells as much around him anymore. Bailey called me about halfway through lunch. It wasn’t unusual for him to call me in the middle of the day, given he had a spare after lunch, but he didn’t usually call and then text and then call again. Odd. I hope everything is okay….
“Someone’s popular? Hot date you forgot about tonight Becca?” Garrison joked. I wasn’t looking at Monty but I knew his eye twitched ever so slightly, as it did whenever someone made a comment like that.
“Uh, yeah sure. Whatever Garrison.” I said, distracted as my phone began to ring again. Something is going on. I answered it at the table rude I know, but I don’t think a bunch of teenage boys care much about table etiquette. “Hey Bailey, what’s up?” I asked.
“Hey so I didn’t want to get involved or get you involved since you aren’t here to defend yourself, but I feel like you need to know. And it’s my problem because you’re my best friend.”
“Need to know what?” I put my hand up to quiet the boys down a bit.
“James has been… saying stuff. About you. And your relationship.”
“Uh okay? Why is that a problem?”
“Because of what he has been saying and what it involves regarding your relationship.”
“What has he been saying Bailey?” I felt my cheeks begin to warm and Monty and Zach’s eyes on me.
“He’s been telling our friends uh… intimate details about your erm… private relationship.”
I laughed in disbelief. That little prick. I took a deep breath to centre myself, though it did little to quell my growing anger. The table grew silent as I started to vibrate, “well Bailey. You tell James that if he keeps running his damn mouth, I will get on the next plane home, find him, and shove my foot so far up his ass he will taste it.” I heard Bryce let out a laugh and glared at him threateningly.
“Okay. Is it wrong that I would pay to watch that? Because that would be great.”
“Bailey.”
“Sorry, just trying to break the tension.”
“Has the little slime ball been saying anything else?”
“I mean, he complains about the end of your relationship, which I don’t like but that’s not unusual.”
“Remind him that I kept my mouth shut about a lot of shit he did, to protect him. And remind him about the little agreement we made when we broke up. I may not live there anymore, but my phone plan has international calling and I am on very good terms with the school resource officer.”
“What agreement Rebecca?”
“The agreement that keeps his dumb ass out of jail for various things that I cannot talk about right now. And certainly not with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have money to bail you out of jail and the exchange rate is terrible right now. That’s why.”
“O-okay then. Talk later?”
“Yeah, I might call tonight but if not, later this week. Depends on my plans for the evening.” I heard a bell on the other end of the line.
“Gotta run, love you Becky.”
“Love you too Bear.”
When I looked up, the table was staring at me, slack jawed. Scott looked the least surprised out of the group, considering he had a little more insight than everyone else regarding my last relationship. “What?”
“What the fuck was that?” Matt asked.
“My ex was talking about shit he shouldn’t have been talking about.”
“Okay we got that much but… what was that?” Zach asked.
“You’re so small. How can such a small person have that kind of anger in them?” Garrison added.
“Could have something to do with people not watching where the hell they walk and stepping on me, or it could have something to do with my tolerance for bullshit getting lower and lower the older I get.”
“But you hang out with us. So, I don’t see how that is possible? That was kind of hot though.” Scott asked.
“No offence, but I’ve met second graders who exude more bullshit than you guys do all put together. Well if I knew that’s all it would take to turn you on Scott, I would have told Bailey to call me during lunch a long time ago.”
“Okay, that’s fair. Hurtful but fair. What can I say, it’s the simple things. Are you going to eat your apple?”
“Depends Scotty. Are you going to take it anyway?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Uh huh. Since I don’t get a choice anymore, knock yourself out.” I chucked my apple at him, half hoping he would miss. He never did.
Zach and Monty shared a look. Still haven’t grasped subtlety yet I see. “Do you want my carrot sticks Monty? I’m not very hungry.”
“Why?”
“Big breakfast.”
“Right. Sure, not one to say no to free food. Even if they are someone’s leftovers.”
“They aren’t leftovers you meatball. I cut them this morning. I had green beans last night.”
“Do you eat other vegetables Becks?” Monty asked, teasingly, taking a bite of the stick.
“Dude, chew your fucking food.” Bryce chided.
“Why? What is this? Interrogate Rebecca day or something? Eat your damn carrot sticks.”
There was a beat of silence, where the boys sat with perplexed looks on their faces. Zach, bless him, jumped in with some game related question that I tuned out as it went over my head. I’m dating a sports player. I never said I understood any of it. The heat seemed to be off of us again, though I could feel Scott glancing my way every now and then while I tried to brush up on some geometry before math class.
I had full intentions to lessen Scott’s once again raised suspicions, so instead of waiting for Montgomery a minute or two after the lunch bell as usual, I merely waived goodbye to my friends and ran to math. I was the first one there so I pulled out the book I was reading between classes.
“Good book?” Cyrus asked, startling me as he sat down.
“God! You scared me. Yeah, I have read it a few times though.”
“Cool. Did you want to come hang out tonight? Mack is going to Chad’s place to talk boys or something.”
“Maybe, I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Dad is making baked ziti for dinner. You can have a corner piece.” He bribed.
“A corner piece of ziti you say? Well in that case, my schedule is clear as day.”
“It’s a plan.”
Mr. Daniels started class a few minutes later. Will geometry ever get easier?
I met Cyrus at my locker after school and yelled a goodbye to my friends, who were having an animated discussion about who would in a fight, someone I had never heard of or some other guy I’ve never heard of. There was a chorus of ‘byes’ and grunts of acknowledgement. We parted ways and met again at his house.
“Hey Andrew.” I greeted his dad.
“Hey kids. How was school?”
“It was school dad. The establishment and crap.”
“I see you had a good day Cyrus.”
“At Liberty? Sure.”
“I had a pretty good day. I told my friend at home to tell my ex where he can stick his opinion. Do you need help with anything?”
“No, that’s okay thanks though Becca.”
“Oh this I need to hear.” Cyrus said, grabbing a Coke from the fridge.
“Pass me a Diet and I’ll tell you.” After opening my drink, I told the father and son the story of the lunch phone call.
His dad raised his brow and muttered something about punk ass little shits who don’t know their cocks from their feet.
“That is awesome dude. You should have told him to Facetime you when he told this James dickwad.”
“That would require me seeing the asshat’s stupid face. So no sadly.”
“Fair point. We are going to my room to do some homework Dad. Call when dinner is ready? I bribed her with a corner piece so save one for her.”
“For sure kids. Have fun.”
With that, we ran off to his room, but we didn’t work on the non-existent homework. Instead, we went through his records and Spotify account and argued about which to play. “Just go to a radio if it’s going to be an issue Cyrus.”
“No no. You’re my guest, you choose.”
“I already chose and you said no.”
“Fine. Defy it is. You’re lucky I like you.”
“Mhmm. Just play the damn album Cy.”
He laughed as he hit play and the sounds of Of Mice & Men filled the room.
“You better not have been lying about the corner piece man.”
“Lie to you about dad’s cooking? I would never.”
“Right. And I’m the Queen of England.”
We joked around for a while before dinner. Andrew called us down later and as promised, I had my crispy corner slice of ziti.
“Thank God it’s Friday. I want this week to be over. Thank you for dinner again.”
“Everything okay Becca? It’s no problem.” Andrew asked.
“Yeah, it’s just been busy. Lots of assignments and stuff.” Too much work and not enough boyfriend time.
“Well you have the weekend to relax at least.” Cyrus pointed out, waving his fork.
“If you don’t stop that, you’ll poke your eye out one of these days. Are you going to the game next Saturday, Cyrus?” “Maybe. Not really my scene.”
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. We can not care about the sport together. It’s high school. You only go once.”
“Fine, but you are buying me popcorn.”
“Deal.” I said and shook his hand.
Andrew made sure to send me home with leftovers and a standing invitation to come for dinner any time at the end of the night.
20 notes · View notes
completelynobody · 4 years
Text
Legis....It’s you
Olidas' Afternoon, 15th day of Summer's Warmth, Year 45 A.E.
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United Merchant's Guild Hall, Freehold of Proust
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Lex Legis handed over the parchment containing the completed form he was required to fill out in order to be considered for the position.
"All the information you asked for."
The halfling behind the counter accepted it, and looked it over with a skeptical scowl.
"Right....Mister Legless..."
"Legis," He interrupted, "Lex Legis."
The halfling gave him a sidelong glance.
"That's what I said...Legis...anyway, the Kaelinth city guard is currently at a full roster. If you're dead-set on a city guard position, Jobrak will be where the action is."
Lex nodded.
"Wherever...its fine."
The halfling set the parchment down.
"If you're so motivated to be a guard, why not try one of the kingdoms? The lords are always looking to hire guards, or outriders."
Lex shook his head.
"Nobody in any of the kingdoms had any use for my father. Now, I don't have any use for them. I'm perfectly happy in Proust."
The halfling shrugged.
"Suit yourself. I'll get this information into the works. Someone will come out to talk to you shortly."
Lex nodded.
These guild people were very thorough. He liked that.
After a lifetime of uncertainty, things were finally following a logical order for him.
Born to off-world parents, Lex never really was accepted by the children his age, who were born native to this world.
His father, being an off-worlder was forced to find work where he could. That meant the Legis family often had to move from settlement, to settlement.
Despite his father's prowess in battle, none of the native born rulers particularly cared to hire him on.
Probably due to the blue tinted flesh, inborn to his race.
The Zenythri, a people who could trace their lineage back to beings hailing from the outer planes devoted to law and order, were rare enough on the world his family escaped, before the Illithids ravaged it. Here, on Alluria, the Legis family was positively unique.
Unfortunately, uniqueness was not a favorable condition in this world's different societies.
When Lex reached fifteen years of age, he left his family back in the lands of the western frontier, and made his way as a mercenary adventurer.
Using all his father had taught him of the art of marksmanship using blaze-dust weapons, Lex had made a name for himself among the ranks of independent men-at-arms.
In the intervening decade, Lex had shed blood on two continents against all manner of foes.
He preferred to take jobs working for established rulers...much the same way his father had tried.  Despite their resistances to hiring men like him. Men who were different.
No matter what the cause, some part of him could not be brought to work for any entity opposed to the established authority.
After ten years of it, Lex had seen enough though. The disorder that invariably accompanied the nomadic lifestyle of adventuring was wearing on him.
He chose to settle in Proust.
Lex couldn't quite explain why, though. Perhaps it was the inherent disorder of the freehold's lack of any centralized authority that called to him? A situation that, on some inborn level, he felt he could rectify.
The closest thing to a governing body in the freehold was the United Merchants Guild. Moral ambiguities aside, they represented order in the region. It was that order that appealed to Lex the most.
Of course, the money wasn't bad either.
"Lex Legis?"
A comely human female was holding his parchment. She cut an impressive figure, standing rigidly amidst the bustling happenings of the guild hall.
"Here, I'm here."
He stood and waved a hand to gain her attention.
She looked at him with a blank expression, belying no prejudices she may have due to his unusual skin tone.
"You're here applying to join the guard?"
He nodded.
"Yes, someplace fixed though. One of the towns or cities. I'm not exactly eager to patrol long stretches of empty roads."
She smiled.
"I completely understand. Follow me."
She lead him back to an out-of-the-way office, deeper in the guild hall. Holding open the door she beckoned him inside.
Once in, she closed the door and rounded the desk.
Settling into her chair, she indicated the empty seat across from her.
"Make yourself comfortable Mr. Legis."
Lex sat, hands folded in his lap.
"My name is Dandria Dustil. I'm chief recruiter for the guild's security forces here in Proust."
Lex studied her. Her dark hair and features, as well as her tan skin tone spoke volumes as to her origins.
"You're Redgulan, are you not?" He asked.
She blushed.
"Yes, originally. I was born on a farmstead north of Lanterum. But I moved to the city when I was very young. Lived there until the attack eleven years ago. Now I'm a proud citizen of Proust."
He nodded with a slight smile.
Changing the subject, Dandria pretended to recheck the information on the parchment.
"So you're aware of the fact we're looking to fill the ranks of the Jobrak guard, yes?"
Lex nodded.
"Like I told the small-fellow out there, wherever is fine."
Dandria offered a nod in return.
"It says here your preferred method of armament is a blaze-dust pistol?"
Lex smiled.
"Its a family thing. My parents and I came here from another world with the rest of the refugees escaping the Illithid armada. Where we came from, my father was a fairly respected warrior. His weapon of choice was the same as mine is today."
She offered no indication of approval or disapproval.
"Those weapons have become more common since the war. The old Admiralty made use of them extensively. Did you serve?"
Lex shook his head.
"I thought about it, but if my father wasn't good enough for them, then they weren't good enough for me."
She clicked at him with a humorous tone.
"Oooh...a bit of callousness? That'll come in handy here in the freeholds."
He shrugged.
"Let's just call it a pragmatic indifference."
She smirked.
"Fair enough. It also says here you've done wok as a bounty hunter?"
He nodded again.
"Yes. Tracking down lawbreakers mostly. Bringing crooks to justice just appeals to my nature, I guess."
She quirked a brow.
"Were any of these 'crooks' guild members?"
He chuckled.
"A few."
Dandria reclined in her chair.
"Then why come work for the guild if you know we don't exactly operate within the law all the time?"
Lex shrugged.
"I figure, here, you are the law. Doesn't affront me much if the laws of other regions are being bent. Just so long as what's law here remains consistent and equally enforceable."
She smiled again.
"They are indeed."
She leaned forward and used a quill to sign off on the parchment.
"You can go ahead and report to the constabulary headquarters in Jobrak. Bring your gun. I suspect you'll need it sooner than later. As far as I'm concerned, you're the newest copper in the Jobrak city guard."
Lex smiled and got to his feet.
"Thank you Miss Dunstil. I'll head out first thing."
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Heindas' Evening, 10th Day of Summer's Ebb, Year 47 A.E.
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The Nymph's Nest brothel, Jobrak, Freehold Territory of Proust.
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"Yes, Lord Idald, I am fully aware of your status in the Kingdom of Redgulus. But, as I've repeatedly reminded you, you're not in Redgulus."
Lex shook his head when he took in the state of the Redgulan nobleman's appearance.
Half-dressed, covered in spatters of vomit and other less identifiable stains. The noble shook a fist toward him.
"I am Rosgrave Idald, second son of Count Hernon Idald!"
He waved a sheet of wine-stained vellum at Lex.
"And I've just gotten word of my father's passing! So...naturally, I am grieving in the proper Redgulan fashion! I'm getting drunk and sporting with harlots!"
He waved the vellum so hard, he threw off his own balance. He stumbled into Lex's partner, a gruff Dwarf named Gaorge Stonepalm. Gaorge shoved the nobleman to the floor.
"Keep off of me with all that mess!"
Gaorge clenched a fist.
"Or I'll spill the contents of yer skull all over this lovely carpeting!"
Several of the courtesans who worked at the brothel looked on from an adjoining room.  Lex could hear their whispers of disgust.
He gently reached out and clutched Gaorge's wrist, giving it a quick squeeze, calming the dwarf.
"I am sorry for your loss Lord Idald. But that doesn't mean you can shirk your bill here. These ladies have provided a service for you, and they expect to be compensated. If you don't pay up, my partner and I will have no choice but to take you to the city's jail, and hold you until your family sends funds to cover what you owe, as well as post your bail. I'm quite sure the last thing your poor, beleaguered mother needs right now, in this difficult time, is word that one of her sons is sitting in a freehold city's jail cell because he refused to pay his brothel tab."
The lord rolled onto his ass and sat on the floor, drunk and incredulous.
He began to weep.
"I'm sorry!"
He grabbed a fat coin purse from his belt and threw it at Lex and Gaorge.
"Here! Just take it! Take it all. I don't care anymore!"
He accentuated his words with more waves of the vellum.
Gaorge smiled and picked up the pouch, testing its weight.  He looked to Lex.
"This ought to cover the bill, and then some. A pittance for our troubles?"
Lex shook his head and took the coin purse.
"No, Mister Stonepalm, we're duly compensated for the work we do."
He opened it and counted out enough coin to cover the nobleman's bill. He handed the coins to Gaorge.
"Go settle Lord Idald's account, I'll get his lordship on his feet and out of here. I'll see about getting him a room at the Red Boar Inn. Meet me there."
Gaorge smirked as he eyed up the ladies who were turning on their sultry charms now that the Dwarf had gold in his hand.
"You bet Legis. Say...an hour?"
Lex glared at him.
"Ten minutes. And that's to pay the bill already due, not for your own sport.”
Gaorge scowled.
"Pelor’s balls, Legis, yer too uptight sometimes. Whatever. I'll meet you in ten."
Lex nodded and crouched down, helping Rosgrave to his feet, and tucking the coin purse back into the nobleman's belt.
"See you there."
He threw the nobleman's arm around his shoulder to help support him.
"Come on now Lord Idald, let's get you somewhere you can sleep this off."
----------------------------------------------------------
Hexdas' Midnight, 23rd day of Autumn's Rest, Year 49 A.E.
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Beggar's Alley, Jobrak, Freehold of Proust
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Lex cursed and he crouched behind a stack of ruined crates, and quickly went about reloading his pistol.
Lex really hated the undead. Especially vampires. Even more so when those vampires liked to cast spells at him.
He looked across the alley to his partner Gaorge. Smiling, as he worked at reloading, he called out to the wounded dwarf.
"How we doing over there, Stoney?"
The Dwarf clutched at a wound on his scalp that was still gushing blood.
"Me? Oh, I'm just fuckin' dandy! Its all fresh mangoes and perky pixie-tits over here!. How about you, Legis? Still fiddling with that stupid gun? Anyone ever tell you swords don't need reloading?"
Lex smirked as he tamped the ball and powder tight.
"And anyone ever tell you that swords require you to get awfully close to the raging vampires you're trying to vanquish?"
He peered up from behind his cover to see the vampire was working out the somatic component to another spell.
He crouched back down and cursed again.
"He's warming up another one Stoney! What's the plan?"
The dwarf pulled his hand away from the wound and rubbed his bloody fingers together. He laughed.
"Same strategy my father's great grandfather, Orlock Stonepalm used against the dreaded Minotaur Lord of the Sullen-Depths Labyrinth!"
Lex chuckled.
"Let me guess...we rush it?"
The Dwarf hefted his axe and nodded.
Lex shook his head as he pulled back the firing mechanism.
"Our Warforged colleague, Constable Spade, tried that already. He didn't fair so well."
Gaorge shrugged.
"Maybe the bloodsucker will be surprised we'd be dumb enough to try it too?"
Lex rolled his eyes.
"Alright, on three...I'll put a ball in the bastard while you clear the distance and hack it down."
Gaorge smiled.
"I can agree to that."
Lex grinned.
"You know why I love being partnered with you Stoney?"
The dwarf's face crinkled in confusion.
"No, why?"
Lex smiled wide.
"You're real easy to shoot over."
Gaorge rolled his eyes this time.
"Kiss my ass Legis."
Lex laughed.
Garoge smirked.
"You ready Legis?"
Lex nodded.
Gaorge set in a crouch.
"On three, right?"
Lex peered up again.
"Yep."
Gaorge nodded.
"Alright....THREE!"
He burst forth from behind his cover and rushed down the alley at the Vampire.
Lex laughed and quickly stood up, taking aim.
As the dwarf closed the gap, Lex saw the vampire's eyes go wide for a moment before it completed its spell.
He pulled the trigger, and in less than a heartbeat, the familiar buck of the explosive recoil shook his arm.
At the same moment in time, the vampire's spell was unleashed.
Lex felt his muscles begin to seize up.
He braced himself against the tightening sensation, trying to steel his fortitude against the vampire's arcane power....
Gaorge heard the whistle of Lex's shot whizz over his head. The vampire's spell must not have gone off properly, because he didn't see any brilliant flashes or feel the heat of any explosions.
Gaorge almost pitied the creature when his axe buried into its head, splitting it like a ripened fruit.
The creature dissipated into a gaseous state and drifted away in the night winds.
He sighed.
"Well Legis, looks like it got away this time."
He paused, awaiting some sarcastic, yet dry reply. When one didn't come, he turned and looked back up the alley.
"Hey Legis, did you hear me?"
He saw Lex, standing motionless in the shadows. His arm still extended, aiming the pistol at where the vampire was.
"Legis, you alright?"
He started walking back towards his partner, who refused to answer.
"Come on man! Its gone! Quit posing and come help me pick up the pieces of what's left of Spade. Knowing Jimur, he'll want to melt down the poor bastard's body for the raw Adamantine."
Legis still refused to answer, much less drop the aiming pose.
The dwarf walked a little more briskly toward his silent and still partner.
"Come on Lex, what in the hells is wrong with you?”
He kicked a small, empty wooden keg at him.
Legis made no attempt to move, or block the projectile. It made impact, and knocked Lex down.
Gaorge's heart sank when he heard the distinct sound of rock, striking rock, and cracking.
The dwarf ran as fast as his short legs would carry him to his now fallen partner.
He dropped to his knees when he found Legis laying in the alley, completely petrified.
The keg he'd kicked had knocked over the living statue, causing it to make impact with the cobblestone alley.
The arm holding the pistol had broken off at the shoulder. The chest cracked diagonally from the broken shoulder, down to the hip.
Gaorge tried to frantically hoist the statue back up to its feet, but the blood on his hands caused him to lose his grip..
He watched in horror as his partner's form impacted the ground again, separating the upper section from the lower along the fault line.
"Oh gods...Legis. I'm so sorry."
Thirty minutes later, Gaorge pushed a wheelbarrow filled with the parts of the fallen warforged constable, and the pieces of his petrified and shattered partner, into the Jobrak City Guard headquarters.
"Someone help!"
---------------------------------------------
Bocdas' Afternoon, 8th Day of Winter's End, Year 50 A.E.
---------------------------------------------
Hallink Gemnibbler, the gnomish enchanter, smiled as he gazed upon his completed creation. He turned to his current patron, Jimur Fletcher, who stood nearby.
"Well? What do you think?"
Jimur stepped out of the shadow of the large bodyguard who was never farther than an arm's length from him.
He casually looked over the creation.
"Is it alive?"
Hallink clicked his teeth.
"He is most certainly alive. It took me a few months to piece everything together properly, and I had to make a few necessary adjustments here and there...but yes. I think its all in all a successful experiment."
Jimur looked at the gnome with a dubious glare.
"So you just pieced the poor bastards together, and brought him back to life like this?"
The gnome nodded.
"Yes. I'm afraid the warforged was a complete loss. And the petrified constable would have been as well. Luckily there was enough of the fallen warforged's....chassis...left to act as a new body."
Fletcher looked first to his bodyguard, then to the creation.
"So he's a living golem?"
Hallink shook his head.
"Technically, he's a half-golem."
The bodyguard let out an agitated groan, but otherwise remained silent.
Jimur turned to face Hallink.
"So he's alive, but has golem parts?"
The gnome nodded.
"Yes, I suppose that's accurate. Save for his head, and torso, his body is primarily artificial."
Jimur looked back at the creation.
"Well...when can he get back to work?"
The gnome laughed.
"Whenever you'd like."
Jimur's eyes narrowed.
"You put him back together physically...but is he 'all-there' mentally?"
The gnome shrugged.
"Depends on how mentally stable he was before. There's also bound to be some slight residual affect to his state of mind. He's really been through quite a shock. But...I took steps to ensure he won't pose a danger to the general public."
Jimur stared at the creation.
"What kind of steps?"
The gnome walked over and stood next to Jimur.
"I wove a few mentally binding spells into the whole construction process. He's going to fairly single-mindedly perform his duties as a constable. But unlike a true golem, he is capable of his own thoughts and able to plan his own courses of action. The spells are more like safeguards. Directives, if you will."
Jimur turned to him.
"Oh yeah? What are these directives?"
The gnome smiled.
"Ask him."
Jimur quirked a brow and turned to the creation.
"Officer....what are your directives?"
Lex Legis blankly looked up at Jimur Fletcher.
"Serve the public trust. Protect the innocent. Uphold the law."
5 notes · View notes
blizzardfluffykpop · 4 years
Text
The Bet
Summary: Kiss me under the mistletoe let’s get that dough.
Oneshot
Mark Tuan X Reader
Not Requested
Prompt: 1. “I bet you can’t make that girl/guy, kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night”
Christmas seemed to get more and more boring with each year but when you had friends like I do and clubs that stayed open on that day, it seemed to not matter anymore. I get dressed up, looking nice, to have a few of my friends pick up. We danced for a while, before going up into the VIP booths, and talked about things, everyone but me and the designated driver drinking. Margret fully drunk at this point, not one with a very high alcohol tolerance, but drinks more than all of us do bets me:  “I bet you can’t make that guy, kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night” While pointing at the guy, she was talking about, I glare and say, “How much you bet?” “I’ll bet you a hundred” We shake on it and we put it on a napkin so she can’t bail. 
The joke was on her, I’ve known this guy for a long time. We were childhood friends and looking at him now, he looked stunning in that suit. Dancing the night away, when I come over to him and exclaim, “Hey Mark! How has life been?” “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” “There’s a lot you don’t expect from me isn’t there~,” I say in a teasing tone, and I continue, “Let me get to the point, you see my friends up there made a bet that I couldn’t kiss you under the mistletoe before the end of the night… And they bet a hundred on it, and I’ll split it half and half with you-” He shrugs his shoulders and tells me, “Well, what are you waiting for?” “Well, can I try to court you?” “Try? I think you already have over the years” That leaves me in shock, “You mean to tell me you liked me after all these years-” He shrugs again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Does this come as such a shock?” Shaking my head rapidly, “I had the biggest crush on you throughout high school, and you didn’t even think to look at me twice, back then” He sighs looking down at his feet before looking back up at me intently, “Well, I was kind of busy making out with Jinyoung to get over you, or at least make you jealous, and try to rile you up so you asked me out… Neither worked” Groaning, “Fuck I wish I knew that sooner, I would have asked you out way sooner.” “Well, what do you say, you take me out on a date after we kiss under the mistletoe, and get that dough?” 
We move over to a branch of mistletoe, and Mark takes the lead, dipping me and kissing me on the lips. Making out for a while, we start slow dancing, I giggle with him. As we twirl around for a bit before, I say I'm going to go get the money, I kiss his cheek and leave; "I can't believe you did it" as they hand me the hundred. I smirk, "Next time, don't pick someone I know" my friend gaps at me like a fish out of water. I sprint down and over to Mark and we go out for the first time, as lovers. 
You see I've loved this man since we were in high school, we lived across the street from each other, our parents always saying how cute we would be together. Once, we became close, they had thought anytime now one of them was going to fall for each other. And this whole time he liked me back, and I simply can't stop thinking about that. The moment I realized how I felt was when I had gotten into a wreck. I called him and he was down there in minutes consoling me, and I notice how much he cared for me. Considering I was on the opposite side of town, and it should have taken thirty minutes to reach me from his house. He only took five minutes, which he claims was because all the lights were green. Considering it is mostly stop signs, and 25 miles per hour through the streets. I don't think he stopped at any, by the time he was there and holding a shaking crying me. To find out he loved me all that time, makes sense because what sane person would disobey every traffic law if it wasn't because of someone they loved. 
Turns out almost everything is closed on Christmas we were about to just go to one of our houses and make dinner when we see a little restaurant opened. The neon letters, barely noticeable, they were probably haven’t worked on since they were first opened. We rush over, and he opens the door for me, "My love" I roll my eyes, winking at him as I walk through the door. The black and white tiles and the cat clock giving the vibe of the 50s, everywhere you looked was a new decade. The jukebox playing 60s music, the chairs look to be from the 90s. But it all felt so right, and so homey, in a weird way. We sit in booths that seemed to come right out of the movie Grease. An older lady comes out on roller blades, gives a menu and rolls away. I look at Mark, this place is so weird but yet so cozy. As the lady comes back, "Sorry I had to deal with an old friend. What would you two cuties like?" We blush before I could answer Mark says, "A monster chocolate milkshake, two straws please" She smiles at us, "Anything else honeys? Or would you like more time?" I politely ask for more time, and she smiles and rolls away. 
After we order, I casual place my hand on his, he grins at me before intertwining them. "I can't believe we waited this long" He smiles, "Yeah me neither, it seems like yesterday I was fantasizing that you were taking me to prom instead of Jinyoung. Yeah, he was a prince, but he wasn't you." He tells me softly, "I wish I had known Mark, I would have danced with you all night long that night instead of him." He kisses my hand, and I continue to speak, "I'd say we both waited too long, but why talk like that. Because you're going to be stuck with me even longer." He laughs and I slightly chuckle, and we both take a sip from our chocolate milkshake. The little old lady comes out with our food, and she asks, "If you don't mind how long have you two been together?" I look at him before I answer, "Well, officially it's our first date. But I've been in love with him for a long time" he squeezes my hand, "I've loved them longer-" "Nuh-uh" "Yeah-huh" she chuckles, "I hope this is the first date of many! You seem to both be a perfect match for each other, my mother used to tell me when two people are meant to be you can see a heart shape form around them, and I certainly see that with you two. This is a strong bond, yeah you may lose faith in each other, but it's a choice to find that faith again. And I believe you two can do it." And with that, she's gone, again. It seems she likes that gone with the wind idea. 
Our hands intertwine while we eat, not much conversation, my thoughts clouded up in her words. Love is a choice, not a feeling, you have to choose to look in their eyes and find the stars not just wait for them to appear. I have faith we can do it too if we waited this long we can hold up with each other. It's only been a few hours with him as an official couple… but it feels as though we've been together forever. Looking in his eyes I see the stars, and I hope he sees the same in mine. 
Little did I know is that he sees the whole universe and then some in my eyes. We start talking about meaningless things, "Do you wanna spend the rest of the night at your house or mine?" "I don't think you want to see my roommates mess, because I have to tell him three weeks in advance because he's a messy individual…" "It’s your dog isn't it?" He laughs and nods, "Yeah, that lazy bum never cleans." "I think the owner might be the lazy one" He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, but you still love me right?" I laugh, "Sadly" he kisses my hand again. 
She comes out with two big slices of chocolate cake, "It's on the house, you two remind me of my wife and me in the old days. Here's your check, and meet me at the counter when you're done" We thank her, digging in, "Man she's so nice, can we come here again?" I ask, "Anytime babe." I grin as I finish, rushing to pay, because I know he'd tried to pay for us like he used to every time we went to the café to study and we got treats. Its payback time. He grumbles at me, "You took my turn" "I've never gotten a turn, it's only fair" He pouts, as she gives us our change. "You kids are too cute, I hope I see you two soon again!" We tell her we will, thanking her again and walking out with big smiles on our faces. He takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, "So how is the pizza job going" "Strong, I'm the manager there… and I'm planning to save up enough money to buy the shop across the road to make that flower shop I used to always talk about." "Really? Wait is it the building right there?" I nod with a smile on my face, "Oh I was planning on making that a mechanic shop" I stop turning to look at him, "Well how about a flower shop in the front and a mechanic shop in the back? We'd make a fortune… with people usually needing to get their car fixed up, sees flowers that would make their significant other feel loved… they buy it while they get their car fixed. They fix up both their love lives at the same time. Their baby, the car is all fixed, and their romantic relationship or platonic relationship is fixed too." He kisses my forehead, "I knew there was a reason I fell for you… you always have the greatest ideas"
--
Needless to say, we bought the shop together, I quit my job at the pizza place becoming full time at my flower shop. Teaching Mark about the types of flowers and meanings, as he teaches me how to rebuild a motor which consists of the engine and transmission. 
We live above the shop now, him coming home with grease on his face, and his coveralls dingy, throwing them into the laundry. His white shirt and blue jeans still are the death of me after all these years. Or if I come in later after consulting a client on which flowers would better suit their needs. Which meanings are what, those orange lilies are not so nice especially if you want to live with them for the rest of your life. With dirt splashing the sides of my face, and soil caked under my nails. Even after the long days, we still find ourselves collapsing on the bed to talk, and hold. One of us being shooed off to take a shower, because the other one just got clean and doesn't want soil/grease all over them. 
It's been a while since then and every month we go to the restaurant, called Loving, it was named after her wife, whose last name she took. It's our 3rd anniversary we go there when she smiles at me and winks. I cock my eyebrow up at her, she became our grandmother, so if we ever need advice we come to her. So it's no surprise she would know something before me. 
We sit down eating a special that Bibi cooked up for us, certainly not on the house anymore. But a bit cheaper, since we're veteran customers to this place. I get up and flipping through the songs to find Marvin Gaye's song How Sweet it is to be Loved by You I turn it on and twirl and start walking to our booth to see Mark on one knee, "Did you lose a pen baby?" I ask rushing over, going to help find whatever he lost. When I look down as he shakes his head, "No,... but (Y/n) would you do me the favor, after all these years, be mine…" Before I can answer, he goes on, "I thought long and hard on how to do this, we had talked about getting married before, but I had no idea how to propose to you. So after long talks with Bibi, I decided to do it here. Where our first date took place, where we made it official, where I decided that from then on out that I was going to be there for you 110%. That every day from then on I looked at the lover of my dreams. The one who I knew deep down inside I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but it was finally becoming true. That when Bibi told us that we were meant to be my heart soared and still hasn't come back down from that high… that I want to make it official with you, I hope it isn't too soon. And if you need more time-" "Mark please stop right there, I've talked to you about marrying you a lot, because I have wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, and you're truly the man of my dreams. Nothing you can do that can change that. Now the only thing I can see that you lost is your ability to marry anyone else." He slides the ring on to my finger, "That's not a loss for me…" He pulls me in and kisses me deeply just like he did that night at the bar. Bibi comes over, "You're grossing out all my customers-" "There's no one here but us-" "Well, you mushy gushy kids, are grossing me out. I better be the maid of honor. Or so help me, Mark." We laugh at her as she sticks out her tongue. 
To say the least, Christmases with him, became less boring, he made me feel something for the holiday again, and it made me feel so good. Our first Christmas together as a married couple was weird because it was still objectively the same, but the wedding photos decorating our mantle surrounded by garland was different. And yes, Bibi was the Maid of Honor, to clear up any questions about that. It felt like I’ve been married to him a lot longer than that, he never fails to surprise me. I wake up to him coming into our bedroom with Hydrangeas and Carnations, I giggle our first anniversary together as a married couple is what the carnations resemble, while the Hydrangeas resemble our fourth anniversary together. Lasting vows and joy for years to come the Carnations scream; appreciation and gratefulness for the two of us being together, the Hydrangeas. “You’re probably asking yourself, how does Mark know what flowers to get? Well, its simple I listened to you and I also asked Bibi for help” I laugh, hands gesturing for him to come here, I have a vase strategically placed on our bedside table and carefully place them there. Pulling him to my arms, kissing his nose, I reach behind my head, underneath the pillow where the box laid thankfully unharmed. “Bibi and I went shopping for hours for the perfect gift for you. And I don’t know if you’ll like it or need it, but this for you”I say handing him the long but small in width box, “Babe, anything you get me, I’ll like and you know it” He carefully unties it and pulls it up, and it’s a long silver tire gauge with the words engraved on it, ‘I love you, but the tires are low on my car’ He looks over at me with a laugh, and kisses me, “Thank you, I’ll fix the tires tomorrow, but would you mind spending all day in the house?” I nod, and he places the tire gauge on the nightstand and wraps his arms around me, as I wrap my arms around him, “Merry Christmas, Flower” I look up at him, “Merry Christmas, Grease” He rolls his eyes at me, and pulls me closer into him, my arms wrapping around his torso with ease and we fall back to sleep together.
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not-my-givenchy · 5 years
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Tragic Fate pt. 2 (Tony Stark x Reader)
Summary: Saying you and Tony Stark had a tumultuous relationship was the understatement of the century, but no one could discount the love you had shared and the good you provided to each other’s lives.
A/N This features a young Tony Stark, prior to his parent’s death. Here is the second installment, in which the reader meets the infamous Howard Stark. I started this story on my main blog many moons ago. So I’m moving it over to this side bloggy in hopes of finally finishing it. 
Word Count: Roughly 1,700+
Warnings none
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4
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Over the next year, every moment you spent with Tony was cherished; his sarcasm matched your wit, and what Jennifer called bickering you considered lively conversation. However, when you were apart it was as if the relationship didn’t exist. Tony made no effort to hide his infidelity, his late night distractions covered the front of every tabloid. Nonetheless, you kept him in your life, knowing that each time his car pulled away his memory of you would be left in the rear view mirror. 
Your swollen eyes were hidden behind thick sunglasses as you turned from his fleeting vehicle. Finals were around the corner, and while everyone else was making extravagant summer plans you were busy worrying about affording the upcoming year. So as you watched Tony’s car pull away you felt more bitter than ever before, and you desperately tried to let your parents call distract you. The land line cord twirled in your fingers as your mother complained about the dairy business. The best cows were turning up dry, and your father couldn’t afford more help to match increased production. You hummed meaningless responses and allowed her to continue, understanding that she was trying her best to distract you from your reality. And when she asked the cause of your melancholy you blamed the stress of school and she never pressed further. 
Finals season was partly to blame for your gloom, but in the back of your mind you knew that your “relationship” with Tony was now causing more harm than good. Dragging yourself into bed you tried to mask the feelings of glum, but your mind wouldn’t stop forcing painful memories upon you. Each recollection of laughter and joy was swiftly followed by the remembrance fights that always preceded. The confrontations always ending with someone slamming a phone down or walking through a door, but neither of you had yet to keep your promises of never coming back. When you heard small knocks on your door you welcomed the interruption. Squinting your eyes, you tried to shake the hallucination, but it was not a mirage, with thumbs in his pockets Tony stood before you grinning. 
“Shouldn’t you be on your way home?” You questioned positioning yourself between the crack. 
Noting your less than hospitable tone, Tony’s smile faded. “Well I got about half an hour out when I realized how much I missed your voice.”
Your nod was slow, and your lips pursed into a forced smile. “That’s sweet of you,” you paused, “but don’t you have dinner with your parents tonight?”
Tony only rolled his eyes. “We have dinner with my parents,” He corrected. 
A heavy weight pulled at your body as you formulated a response. “Do we now?” Your throat burned as you swallowed trying to hide your discontent.
Ignoring your obvious displeasure, Tony pushed behind you and made his way to your bed. “As much as I like seeing you in my sweatshirt with those shorts, you should probably get ready.” Throwing his feet up, he motioned towards your dresser and laid his head back onto his arms. “So whenever you’re ready.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose you tried to devise an insult, but your mind remained blank. With every shirt you pulled on, Tony grumbled an insult, until you had finally slipped into an outfit he approved of. You couldn’t stop the wave of hopelessness that burst from your heart as you looked over the outfit. Every piece of clothing, from your earrings to your shoes, belonged to Jennifer. It all felt like a costume devised by your affluent friend to force you into the mold of the rich, so every compliment Tony directed towards you felt like a chisel through the heart. 
As he helped you from the car, Tony’s hand felt foreign in your own. Your eyes never left your feet as you made your way past the doorman. Tony was practically dragging you towards the elevator, and he paid no mind when you tripped at the speed. The entire drive to the penthouse had been silent. Your discontent with Tony was evident, but he didn’t understand your fears. He was clueless as to why you were so uncomfortable with the thought of meeting his parents. So he only responded with anger. The silence followed you into the elevator. His hand still intertwined with your own, trying to meet your eyes, hoping you would smile back. However your eyes were fixed forward, and as you pulled your shoulders back you tried not to look as big of an imposter as you felt. 
Howard Stark was a stern looking man his features sharp with knowledge, time, and regret. With a polite smile Maria balanced out his rigidness, but nothing she or Tony did would be able to slow your racing heart.
“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You greeted discretely trying to wipe your hands before they could embrace them.
Howard’s grip was as firm as his voice. “Y/L/N.” He repeated as if he was trying to place the name to another billionaire. Slow realization flicked through his eyes, and saying no more he simply nodded. 
Maria’s hand shake was much less formal, but equally as stressful. And her warm smile failed to reassure you that this night would be anything but miserable. 
The food rivaled anything you could have scrounged up in the dining hall, and it was probably the only enjoyable part of the night. However, listening to Howard berate Tony quickly took away your appetite, and realizing that your only purpose at dinner was to be a buffer for Tony and Howard made your heart drop. Maria’s game of 20 questions couldn’t quiet Howard’s interrogation of Tony in the background. 
Maria’s attention was laser focused on your future, “so what were your plans for after college? Are you going to take over the dairy farm?”
You choked on your water trying to remember when you had brought up the dairy farm, “no I plan on attending law school.” Realizing that Tony must have talked about you before, your heart fluttered and you hated dinner a little less. 
Howard finally turned his focus to you, “What do your parents think of the 1990 farm bill, will the price floor really harm small time farms as much as those opposed predict?” The question felt like an interrogation. 
Briefly remembering your mother mention the proposed bill, you tried to find an answer. “Well dairy prices increased this year, so a lot of small time farmers are trying to raise production.” You really had no clue what you were saying, but your mom had mentioned that your dad had taken out a loan so that he could prepare for more cows, so you used that one fact to formulate your response. 
Howard’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, his interest quickly shifting back towards Tony, but after staring intently at his son for only a moment, he returned to his food. Tony’s hand found yours underneath the table, and he quickly squeezed it. The gesture was quick but reassuring, and you felt relatively at peace. 
After dinner with Tony’s parents you returned to your dorm alone, Tony had stayed behind so that you could study for finals. At first you thought he was being considerate by not calling, you would be able to study without the stress of responding to him. However, finals had ended and days turned to weeks. Summer had arrived and you had yet to hear from him. Work on the dairy farm quickly distracted you from his absence. Watching your father struggle to pay bills made your lonesome feel pointless. The entire relationship slipped from your mind, for you had more pressing problems to worry about. So when you walked into the kitchen for dinner you were shocked to see Tony laughing at the table with your mother. 
“Sweetheart why didn’t you introduce us to Tony sooner!” Your mother’s shrill voice echoing through the old home. 
“Tony why don’t we talk outside.” You were too exhausted to fake enthusiasm. 
Before Tony could excuse himself, you were walking through the front door. Staring out into the fields, you allowed your body to melt into the rocking chair. The screen door screeched beside you, but you didn’t look up. “You always do this. I don’t want to do this.” You breathed still not looking at Tony. 
Tony took a deep sigh. “I know I have issues, but at least I told my parents you existed. When I knocked on the door your mom thought I was a salesman. Even after I introduced myself she slammed the door in my face.” 
“Smart woman.” You quipped. 
“Y/N, I came here to apologize—.”
“No.” You interrupt. “You always do this. You disappear for weeks. Then you show up and sweep me off my feet only to disappear as quickly as you arrived.” 
Tony is silent for a moment. “So you’re not going back to school?” 
“Don’t change the subject.” 
He sighs again, “Y/N, don’t drop out.”
“It’s not my choice Tony. We can’t pay. Not all of us have billion dollar companies to bail us out when the going gets tough. Some of us have to fight just to put food on the table.” Your eyes rage as you finally look at him. Pointed towards you, he sits on the edge of his chair. 
“No, but you have me. I’ll pay.” 
Your laugh breaks the tension and with a dirty hand you wipe the tears from your eyes. “No thanks.” You spit. 
“Don’t be stubborn.” 
“I’m not being stubborn. Tony this is over, we’re done. Paying for my college isn’t going to change that. I’m not going to take your money so leave.” Your voice raises, the yelling keeping the tears from falling faster. 
“I know this is over Y/N.” Tony spits back. 
Those words are what break you. A part of you had hoped he’d fight you, and that he had come here to woo you back into his arms. But as soon as you hear those words, reality slaps your face. Everything you had come to love in the last three years was over. College, your one escape from the depressing reality of life as a dairy farmer, over. The friendships, people with similar dreams and aspirations, finished. The reality of the end always scared you, it was something you thought you’d never have to face. But the sad fact of reality was that it would always find you and there was no running from it.
Next Part
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n0-eyedtaissa · 5 years
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Thicker Than Water (Little Brother!Sweet Pea x OC)
Description: After catching word about what the Pretty Poisons did to Sweet Pea and Fangs, Ruthie finds herself at Thistlehouse in order to give Cheryl and Toni a talking to about family and loyalty. 
Word Count: 3,147
It was past nightfall when Sweet Pea got home. He was trying his hardest not to let his older sister see the shape he was in because he knew she would ask questions that he was too embarrassed to answer right now. So he limped home, nose bleeding and lip split, holding an ice pack to his bruising cheek as he hoped that Ruthie would either be asleep or at work by the time he walked in the door. 
She wasn’t. 
“What the fuck happened?” Ruthie interrogated, putting her cigarette out in the white plastic ash tray that sat beside her on the kitchen able. She got up from her chair quickly, ignoring the burning pain in her back and the soreness in her feet to pull Sweet Pea into the light, cupping his face in her hand as she surveyed the damages.
“I’m fine!” He said too-forcefully, making Ruthie flinch at the coldness of his tone. She looked him over quickly: Sweet Pea’s wounds were pretty much all cleaned up so there was nothing else she could do. She let go of his face and walked over to the fridge where she grabbed a fresh beer, holding the cold glass neck of the bottle with one hand and uncapping it with the bottom of her lighter (a party trick that Ruthie had learned from her brother not all that long ago). 
“Who patched you up?” She asked, looking at the freshly cleaned cuts that littered Sweet Pea’s face and jaw. There was an oddly-shaped bruise forming near the boy’s eye, like whoever punched him was wearing a ring.
“Jones,” Sweet Pea muttered, shifting the ice pack to his eye.
“FP?”
“Gladys”
Ruthie’s eyes widen in surprise at the thought of Gladys Jones playing nurse to her brother, but she chocked it up to residual motherly instinct and decided to let in slide for now. Plus, it’d explain why FP didn’t call about things sooner.
The small expanse of the trailer was silent for a moment, which was a rare occasion for their family. Sweet Pea was relishing in momentary quiet, taking solace in the cold compress that he had pressed to his face to stop the swelling. He knew the silence wasn’t gonna last for much longer, he could feel Ruthie’s worried eyes on him and he knew that if he didn’t start talking soon there would be a problem. 
“The Pretty Poisons,” he said flatly after a few more minutes of tense silence. 
Ruthie’s face contorted into a mask of confusion and disbelief, “Who the fuck is that?” 
“Ever since Jones banished Toni and Cheryl from the Serpents, everyone’s been defecting. The Serpents as we know it are dying.” Sweet Pea scoffed, his jaw tensing up instinctually before hissing in pain. “We’re down eight more members, all girls. The Pretty Poisons are Cheryl and Toni’s new project…” 
“That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard for a damn gang,” Ruthie pointed out and Sweet Pea can’t help but crack a sad smile. 
“They’re supposed to be all about feminism and empowerment, but that didn’t stop them from beating up on me and Fangs to prove a point…” Ruthie’s entire demeanor shifted when she heard her younger brother divulge the details of what happened to him. “It was eight on two, Cheryl sicced ‘em on us then stepped back and watched the whole damn thing.” 
“Cheryl Blossom did this to you?” Ruthie seethes through gritted teeth, her eyes going hard, dark and angry. She swallowed roughly, “And, tell me, where was Toni during this whole thing?” 
Sweet Pea shrugged, “She wasn’t around, I don’t really know…” Ruthie scoffed again, getting up from the kitchen table and stopping to put on her boots by the front door. “Ruth, where’re you going?” 
She opened the front door with one hand and slipped her knife into the pocket of her jeans with the other, “I’m gonna go and fix this, this is bullshit.” 
“What’re you gonna do?” Sweet Pea yelled after Ruthie, more nervous for whoever was going to be on the receiving end of his sister’s rage.
“Don’t you worry about it,” Ruthie promised as she bounds down the stairs. “You know where the bail money is!” She yelled over her shoulder.
Sweet Pea heard the engine of his sister’s old car turn over, gravel skidding under the balding tires. He paled a little as he thought about the things that his sister could be capable of, and he found himself slipping his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialing up Fangs.
~~~
The ride to Thistlehouse was eerily silent, Ruthie was too mad to even think about turning on the radio. The sound of the blood pumping in her ears was enough to lull Ruthie into a false sense of relaxation as she sped over to the Gothic manor. The gates around the property were haphazardly propped open by a row of chop-shop motorcycles, dripping freshly painted pink onto the grass and the gravel. Ruthie smirked, unclipping her knife from its trusty slot in her back pocket and opened the spring-loaded blade. Quickly doing a once-over of the area to check for witnesses, Ruthie crouched down and waddled over to the row of bikes, thankful for the covering of bushes and ivy to mask her silhouette as she brandished the knife blade and plunged it into the thick rubber tire of the first motorcycle in the line. 
Man, they made that too easy…
She went down the line just like that, having angrily slashed at tires and pulled at spark plugs and break-lines. Ruthie stood up, folded her knife up to tuck it back in her pocket, brushed herself off, and continued making her way up the path to the house covered in ivy. Her footfalls were heavy as she walked up the grey bricked driveway and towards the front door.
Ruthie laughed softly, too angrily, she rolled her shoulders back and lifted her fist to slam down hard against the slated wood of the front door to Thistlehouse. She rapped on the old door twice with her closed hand before it was wrenched open by a new recruit of the Pretty Poisons. 
“What do you want?” The girl asked angrily. Her knuckles were purple and bruised and she was wearing a thick ring with a polished tiger’s eye stone embedded in it. Same oblong-shape as the bruise by Sweet Pea’s eye. 
“Cheryl home?” Ruthie’s tone was calm an unwavering, and the girl in front of her looked unsure of how to proceed with that. 
“Who needs to know?” The Pretty Poison raised a manicured eyebrow at Ruthie, looked over her and noticed a lack of a tattoo or a jacket, couldn’t figure out who this woman was or who she had ties to. 
“Me” 
“Yeah? And who’re you?” The girl shoved Ruthie’s shoulder, seeing if she would waver. 
“Me?” Ruthie smiled sinisterly, “I’m an old friend of Cheryl and Toni’s. Now could you run along and grab them for me? I know you’re doing their beckoning” 
The girl shoved Ruthie roughly against a tall pillar, “You think you can come onto our turf and start demanding things, without giving up any answers?” 
Ruthie couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the gang member trying to rough her up, “Your ‘turf’? You’ve been out of the Serpents for what, two days, and you guys are already trying to start a turf war over something you don’t have?” She lets out another bitter cackle, and soon two more members of the Pretty Poisons are walking into the entryway to Thistlehouse to see what the commotion was. 
“You good in here, Peaches?” another one of the Poisons asked, wielding a pink-plated knife from the pocket of her leather jacket. 
“This bitch walked in here demanding to talk to the Boss, but I think she’s messing with us…” Peaches divulged to the other two Poisons walked closer to Ruthie, who was still pressed against the wall. 
“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” The gang member with the knife asked rhetorically, swinging the pink blade closer to Ruthie’s face. Peaches pinned Ruthie’s shoulders to the wall and the girl with the pink knife pressed her blade to Ruthie’s throat. 
Ruthie struggled to break free of the former Serpent’s grasp, just to be met with the pink knife blade being pressed even closer to her jugular. She didn’t panic at the cold bite of the sharpened metal edge on her skin, kept her breathing calm. This wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. The three members of the Pretty Poisons looked intimidated, unsure of what to do with a victim so calm, and one that had a particularly fierce look in her eyes. 
“I grew up on the Southside too, since some of you seem to have forgotten…” Ruthie chuckled, clicking her tongue disappointedly. In a swift movement she yanked her knife out of her pocket and grabbed at the pressure points on Peaches’ elbow, making her yelp out in pain. Sh grabbed another of the Poisons by the lapels of her leather jacket, and spun around to throw the girl against the wall, gaining the upper hand.
“You-you’re fucking dead!” Peaches yelled, lunging at Ruthie again. 
“Stand down, my pretties!” A high-pitched voiced sounded from the top of the stairs. Cheryl slowly cascaded down the staircase, snapping her fingers at the new members of her gang. The redhead reached the final step, her red heeled boots hitting the parquet of the ground floor as she slowly approached Ruthie. 
“Now this is a sight,” Cheryl laughed haughtily, throwing a wave of red hair over her shoulder. “The Serpents must be getting desperate if they’re sending you over here, aren’t they? How’s Pea-brain doing after his little skirmish with my girls today?” The corner of her mouth curled up into a shit-eating grin, and Ruthie’s palms started itching as she thought about how good it would feel to slap that look right off of the rich brat’s face. 
“That’s what I came to talk to you about, Red…” Ruthie’s voice lowered an octave as she tried to keep her composure. 
Cheryl laughed— it was too bubbly and loud for a moment like now. “They really did a number on those two, didn’t they?” She walked closer to Ruthie, “It was quite the spectacle to observe; Sweet Pea and Fangs covering up their pretty faces as they cowered — getting beat up by girls. Do you think our message was received, Ruthless? Or should do we need to remind them again that the Pretty Poisons are not to be trifled with?” 
Ruthie couldn’t help it— her open hand cracked across the girl’s face, Cheryl’s head snapped back at the force of the slap and she staggered backwards, her small hand coming up to her face as she clutched the red welt that was forming, tears springing to her eyes. 
Cheryl gasped and let out a yelp of pain before regaining her composure, though Ruthie could tell that her courageous mask was cracked. “I heard that FP Jones’ wife is in town,” Cheryl’s tone was condescending as she looked down at Ruthie, her maple-red lips contorting into a sinister smile, “Maybe that’s the true reason you’re so riled up here” 
Ruthie was taken aback at the Blossom girl’s audacity, “No, red, I’m upset because you and your little Polly Pocket biker gang over here decided to jump my brother and his best friend…and for what? In the name of ‘feminism’?” Ruthie scoffed, walking closer to Cheryl and getting ready to incite more damage if need be. The redhead flinched back instinctually, her body going rigid. 
“I know you’re not from the Southside, so you don’t know a thing about loyalty — but we protect our kind over there.” Ruthie cracked her knuckles, not planning on actually hitting the Blossom girl again, just doing it for show. “And what we don’t do is start fights we can’t finish, with people who can’t fight back.” 
“We were sending a message, sooner or later those sexist Serpents will get it through their thick skulls that us Pretties are here to stay” Cheryl said quickly through gritted teeth as she tried to act tougher than she actually was. 
“Well you sent your message to the wrong person, Blossom. Now I don’t give two shits what happens next, but if you or any of your cronies lay a hand on my boys again, you and I are gonna have bigger problems, understood?” Ruthie stared down the girl again for good measure. 
“Understood,” Cheryl whispered meekly. 
“Babe, what’s going on? I thought I heard —“ Toni Topaz rounded the corner into the entryway to Thistlehouse, pink hair dripping water onto her white t-shirt covered shoulders as she ran her hairbrush through her freshly washed hair “—fighting.” The girl’s expression was taken aback and it was clear that she was surprised to see Ruthie and Cheryl having a stand down. 
“Is there a problem here, babe?” Toni lays the fake-charm on thick, barely managing to register Ruthie’s presence in the room despite the given circumstances. 
“No problem, TT. Don’t you worry a hair on your pretty little head.” Cheryl dismissed herself from the altercation and scurried upstairs. 
“Ruthie, it’s time for you to leave” Toni finally addressed her former friend, a memory from her past life as a Serpent. 
“I don’t think so, T” The woman laughed, tucking a dark brown curl behind her ear. “You and me need to have a talk, I think.” 
Toni sighed and chucked her hairbrush onto a nearby chair. “I don’t think so, I don’t owe you anything. Especially not when you come into my house and try and start a fight with my gang.” 
“Your gang?” Ruthie guffawed at the audacity, “This isn’t ‘your gang’, this is a way for you to get back at Jughead while your little rich girlfriend galavants around on a power trip” 
“It’s a sisterhood!” Toni tried to assert. She raised her voice at Ruthie, trying to make up for her lack of height, her lack of relative power. 
“A sisterhood? You think those girls will protect you, keep you safe from all the evil motherfuckers out there in the world? Help you out when shit gets tough, give you a place to stay in you need it?” Ruthie lined up the hypotheticals for the Topaz girl, walking around the entryway of the old gothic house and carefully examining all of the baubles and bravado that lined the walls and pillars. “Family does that shit for you, Toni. Family” 
The pink-haired girl shook her head fiercely, her facial expression having gone hard and angry at what Ruthie was insinuating, “The Serpents aren’t my family anymore” 
“Clearly,” Ruthie nodded, picking up a spherical glass paperweight from where it sat by the old-fashioned telephone. “Cause family doesn’t let each other get hurt” 
Toni’s face fell as she realized that Ruthie was talking about the altercation outside of Pop’s earlier that afternoon, where the Pretty Poisons jumped Sweet Pea and Fangs for no reason besides the fact that they could. 
“Your girls got them pretty banged up; Fogarty’s nose is broken and Sweet Pea cracked a rib” Ruthie tossed the clear paperweight up in the air and Toni jumped to catch it. 
“A-Are they okay?” 
Ruthie raised her eyebrow at the girl in front of her, “Why do you care, I thought the Serpents weren’t your family anymore?”
“They’re not, I-I don’t give a shit about them anymore…” Toni tried to talk herself up, to make herself feel like the tough girl gang member she was raised to be. But what did that mean to her without the Serpents? “Why don’t you get the hell out of here, Ruthie? I don’t owe you anything, and neither do the rest of the Pretty Poisons” 
“You don’t owe me anything?” Ruthie rolled her eyes, “I find that hard to believe, Topaz. I’ve done a hell of a lot for you. Without you even having to ask me.” Toni’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion as she thought about the older woman’s statement. 
“Can’t think of anything?” She chuckled again, walking closer to Toni. “When your uncle kicked you out for being gay, you stayed on my couch for a month straight. I didn’t ask you for any money for groceries, or utilities, but I let you stay there until you got back on your feet, didn’t I?” 
“Yeah, but —“ Ruthie held out her hand and stopped Toni from proceeding. 
“Every time your hot water got shut off, who let you come over and shower every day before school?”
“You, but —“ 
“—When I got rid of all my old clothes, who was the first person to get to go through them before I took all the garbage bags down to Southside Thrift?” Ruthie questioned, already knowing all of the answers. “Nice boots, T, I wonder who gave them to you…” She kicked at the toe of Toni’s well-worn pair of green combat boots. 
“Topaz, you were the little sister that I always wanted” Ruthie divulged, carefully placing a small hand on Toni’s clothed shoulder, “So for you to say that the Serpents aren’t your family anymore, that isn’t just ‘fuck you’ to the gang, because I never was a part of the gang, T. You’re saying fuck you to anyone who’s ever cared about you and done whatever they could to make your shitty life just a bit more comfortable.”
“Ruthie, will you just fucking listen to me?” Toni shrugged Ruthie’s hand off her shoulder and tried to continue defending herself, even though she knew it was fruitless. 
“A actions speak louder than words, T. You’ve said your piece. Now you have to live with those decisions.” Ruthie made her way back towards the front door of the manor, getting ready to see herself out.  But before she could leave, she turned over her shoulder to make her final point: 
“Until you realize just how badly you’ve fucked things up; stay away from me, from my family. Stay away from Sweet Pea, and Fangs, everyone. You broke this family, Toni. Not us” 
Toni stood in front of the front door dumb-founded as she watched Ruthie’s silhouette grow smaller and smaller as she exited the gates of Thistlehouse. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and Toni reached an angry fist up to wipe it away before anyone could see. She couldn’t help but think of an old proverb she learned about in English class not too long ago, “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”. 
At the time, Toni didn’t really understand what that meant. But now she did. 
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delos-mio · 5 years
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Death of a Bachelor - Part 5
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A/N: I’m not dead, just depressed! Here’s the next installment. I’d link to the other chapters, but I’m not sure if that whole links-in-posts thing is still a thing. As always, let me know your thoughts/feelings/predictions etc.!
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“Don’t know what you mean, sis,” Logan shrugged, eyes fixed on his phone. He was sitting upright in Juliet’s spot on her bed; he had stopped by the home she shared with William to see her after she got back from an extended work trip. Thankfully, William was already back at the office, so Logan was actually able to enjoy time with Juliet without his future brother-in-law lurking over his shoulder.
“You think I didn’t notice who won your bid and who you left with that night?” She stopped putting away her clothes for just a moment and crossed her arms in Logan’s general direction.
“So? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, arrogance lacing his voice.
“The big deal,” Juliet walked over and pushed his phone away from his face, forcing him to look at her, “Is that she’s working under a contract for us. And she’s really good at her job, so I’d rather not lose her from this huge opening when you inevitably hit it and quit it.”
“Ouch, Jules. That one hurt.” He said this as though he were kidding around with his sister, but her words really did stab through him. She wasn’t wrong to say it, that was his M.O. after all. It was the truth of it that hurt him the most; he hated himself for her being right.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” she sighed and pushed his legs, silently asking him to move over. “I just really like her and I don’t know if it’s smart to muddy all this shit up by fooling around with her, or whatever it is that you guys are doing.”
“What if I really like her too?”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, I do.” He hadn’t told you this, of course. Not yet, anyways. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hanging on your every word, hook, line, and sinker. For all the teasing he was responsible for, he couldn’t wait to see you. Hell, he couldn’t wait just to see your name light up his screen. Juliet leaned to rest her head on Logan’s shoulder, his own easily lobbing on top of hers.
“Then fuck what I have to say about it,” she laughed. “What if daddy finds out, though?”
“I guess we just have to make sure he doesn’t, hm?” He reached out his pinky to her, waiting for hers to link up. Juliet grabbed on to his and shook once in agreement. It was a sign of solidarity they’d continued from childhood, the pinky promise. Growing up, they both got into a lot of trouble that had to never make it to the ears of their father. Each time they had to pick each other up or bail the other one out or just act as a confidant, they swore each other to secrecy. The Delos siblings were two sides of the same wild coin- Juliet had just grown out of it sooner. “That means not telling your stupid fiancé either,” he added with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re asking me to keep secrets from my husband already? Shoulda known,” she smiled. “And will you please stop talking shit about him to me? I’m going to marry the guy whether you like it or not.”
“No,” he said defiantly.
After leaving Juliet to unpack the last of her things, Logan headed back to his house on the coast to enjoy the rest of the weekend before you both had to go back into the office. He dropped his keys on the table in the foyer and stalked around the living room, noticing it was empty. When he got back to his room, you were still laying in the middle of the bed, barely covered by a thin, white sheet. He kicked off his shoes and slid in next to you, making you stir just slightly.
“Right where I left you, perfect,” he mused as he trailed a long finger down your bare spine. You rolled over onto your side to look up at him. Even though you were disappointed he had added a few layers of clothes since you last saw him, he still looked incredible. Since the night of the auction, you’d spent most evenings with Logan. That night was just over a month ago, but being with Logan made you feel like it was only yesterday. He fucked you into the mattress and understood the unique pressures you faced at the helm of your business. Though you told yourself you shouldn’t be mixing business and pleasure, Logan just made it too damn hard not to.
“Sorry. Your bed is comfy as fuck,” you smiled, nuzzling into his side.
“You’re welcome to stay in it as long as you’d like. You just have to promise you’ll stay just,” he softly kissed your lips, “like,” a kiss to your shoulder, “this.” He placed his final kiss low on your chest, earning a hum of approval.
“I have to run a few errands before tomorrow, so I can’t stay too much longer,” you said softly. Logan groaned and held you closer, pressing needier and needier kisses along your collar bone. “I could probably be talked into a shower first, though.” He raised his head to look at you and you arched your eyebrow back, asking him to accept your offer. Logan got up from bed and quickly shed his dark tee and pushed his jeans down around his ankles. As you got up to follow him, you couldn’t help the laugh that came out. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Right as your lips had found his, Logan’s palms running over the curve of your behind, the sound of tires on concrete pulled his focus from you. He looked over toward the window and furrowed his brow, clearly annoyed something was about to delay getting handsy with you in the shower. He stepped over to the covered pane and drew back the heavy curtain only far enough to peek out and see who could possibly be paying him a house call. When he saw the shiny black Maserati speed up the driveway, he pulled the curtains closed tightly and quickly.
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. He found his jeans and hastily buttoned them around his hips. “This is going to sound shitty, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stay right here and not make a sound.” Logan held your face between his hands, his dark eyes fixed and serious.
“Logan, what’s going…”
“Please. Please, just promise me,” he pleaded quietly. You nodded silently and he placed a single kiss on your forehead before storming out of his bedroom and shutting the door loudly behind him.
Logan was off. Whatever he saw outside had been scary enough to genuinely spook him. You’d always seen him completely in control of his emotions. Seeing him now, so shook up and anxious, made your stomach hurt. You tip toed up to the sliver of a gap where the door met its frame and pressed your ear. You knew you shouldn’t be snooping, but you had to know what on earth could possibly make him so skittish.
“Dear old Dad…” Logan drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Your hand clamped down over your mouth to keep yourself silent. Everything you heard about Jim Delos was unpleasant. He was an undeniably successful businessman, but a lousy husband and father. All the sacrifices he made to build his empire came at the expense of his relationships with everyone in his family. You’d been fortunate enough to only work with the Delos siblings up to this point and you sure as shit didn’t want this to be the way you were introduced to him. Something told you he wouldn’t exactly appreciate you fucking his son while under contract for his company.
“Logan.” Jim’s thick accent carried across the living room. “I just got the final Q2 numbers from the board.”
“And I suppose they weren’t up to snuff, hm?” Logan mocked.
“You watch your tone, boy.” You could hear Jim’s heavy footsteps pace around. All you could picture was a predator stalking its prey. “Why the fuck is Westworld draining so much goddamn money!”
“Well, Jim,” he said patronizingly. “Keeping the park open takes money. Imagine that!”
“Goddamn it, Logan!” he bellowed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a fist against a table. “You will get these numbers under control! You’re not 21 anymore; you’re not allowed to be this reckless. I’m not going to fucking tell you again.”
“You really drove all the way out to Malibu to yell at me?” Logan half laughed. “This really feels like this is something you could have just as easily done over the phone.”
“You’re not shit and you’ve never been shit, boy. If you weren’t my own, William would be sitting in your chair,” Jim retaliated.
“Get out of my fucking house.” The directive was spoken quietly, but firm in its intent. Logan was proper angry and Jim knew it. He didn’t care; he knew exactly which button to push to crack his son. There was silence for a moment followed by the harsh slam of Logan’s front door.
You covered yourself with his shirt he left on the floor and scuttled back over to the bed. Minutes passed in silence before there was any evidence of movement beyond the bedroom door. When Logan finally re-entered his room, he looked exhausted. The color was drained from his face and his eyes were distinctly tired. All you could do was stare back at him. You opened up your arms to him, offering the only thing you could think to do. But Logan looked away first and waved you off.
“I think you should go,” he whispered.
“Logan, I—”
“Just go, ok?” He wasn’t angry, no. Logan sounded embarrassed. For some reason, that made your heart clench even more.
You so badly wanted to tell him not to be, that you understood and would do whatever he needed to feel better. But his request was final and you thought it best not to pick a fight, not this time. You pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the duvet; his eyes wandered over to your naked skin and he watched as you stepped back into your dress from the night before. Just as you were about to pass him, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The skin just below his eye was damp and tasted salty like the sea beyond his window. There was nothing you could say to him, so you quietly grabbed your bag and got in your car.
When you got into the office the next morning, you were groggy. After a weekend hedonistic romp with Logan punctuated by him coolly forcing you to leave, you didn’t get much rest once you got back home. But that’s what coffee is for, right? Logan hadn’t reached out to you since you left the day before. That was unusual for him, but you supposed he was wallowing a bit and didn’t want you to be part of it.
The rest of the day past without a peep from Logan. Part of you was starting to worry, but he was a grown man who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. You reminded yourself that even though you’d been into each other for months now, he was not your boyfriend and you were not obligated to worry about him when he wasn’t around. But then it got to be Thursday. Four days of radio silence from Logan. You texted him once around Tuesday night just to see if you could get him to bite. Nothing. Fine- if he didn’t want talk, then neither did you. The time for playing bullshit games like this was a thing of the past. Another week passed without word and while the world kept turning, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.
You did your best to push the incident and subsequent ice out from your mind and dove into a campaign proposal sent from one of your brightest interns. Just as you put your glasses on to settle in for hours of staring at a buzzing screen, there was a soft ding from your phone beside you.
L: Hello darling ;)
Hello? Darling? Emoji? You shook your head a bit, rattling your brain to hopefully knock loose the part that would make sense of his text. For some reason, you thought his first contact with you would be something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry for ghosting’ or even a bashful ‘hey’. Not this.
Y: Hi Lo L: Would I sound like a gushy freak if I said I missed you? Y: Yes L: Ok, how about…let me bring you dinner because I miss you? Y: Like eat at my place? Are you sure? It’s no immaculately clean mansion along the coast L: I’m sure I can survive in squalor for a night Y: Shut up L: Is that a yes? Y: It’s a yes. I should be home around 7 if you want to come over whenever after that L: It’s a DATE! Y: 🙄
He acted like nothing happened. You wanted to be irritated with him. Really, you wanted to tell him off when you saw him, but the more you sat and thought about it, the less it seemed to anger you. Logan had shown you with perfect clarity what this…this thing between the two of you was. He was not beholden to you and the two of you were just fun. You could live with just fun. Did you even have time for more than a casual hook up anyways? Maybe Logan was smart and charming and funny in the most exhausting way possible, but there was no sense in getting attached. With this sudden wave of peace washing over you, you were able to finish your work and leave ahead of schedule.
You applied the last coat of mascara to your lashed when you heard a knock on the door down the hallway. Logan was casual tonight, his dark jeans hugging his thighs and black shirt laying perfectly over his lean torso. It had been close to two weeks since you last saw him, not a long time in the grand scheme of things, but you’d somehow forgotten just how handsome Logan really was. He took a long step to let himself inside your apartment, his chest pressed flush against you.
“Hi,” you mumbled, finally looking up at him somewhat nervously. He was grinning from ear to ear.
“Hey,” he said before leaning down and connecting his lips with yours. You could feel the sigh release from your body and didn’t care if he noticed. This was the feeling you’d missed so much over this little hiatus. Logan had relaxed too; you could feel him loosen as his lips moved over yours. When he pulled away, he was still smiling. “Goddamn, I don’t even want dinner anymore. I just want to take you back to your room and make you come once for each day I missed you.”
“I’m starving,” you said, grabbing the bag he carried in with him. “So I guess you’ll just have to wait.” As you walked over to the couch, you could hear the sigh from behind you and the sound of Logan closing the door behind you. “What’d you bring me anyways?”
“Sushi. I believe a little birdie once told me she loved Shunji,” he said smugly, clearly proud of himself for remembering something you’d mentioned to him months ago.
“They…they don’t even do take out! How di—”
“They do when you’re a Delos,” he winked. You were a little speechless. Everything you thought you had figured out this morning was scrapped and you were back to square one with trying to figure Logan out.
“Well, Logan Delos, thank you,” you said formally, raising your glass of wine to his before taking a drink. For a moment, you ate in silence, reveling in the fresh, delicious sushi Logan brought you. He seemed content enough to just enjoy the company and share dinner together. As you were nearing the end of your meal, you cleared your throat a bit, preparing to address the elephant in the room. “So…been a bit since we’ve talked,” you said, hoping you sounded more sure than you felt.
“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry about that. I just had some shit I had to do and I…” he began.
“You don’t need to explain anything to me. I would have appreciated it if you would have just let me know you’re too busy for me or whatever, but there’s no use in fighting about shit we can’t change, right?” When you looked over at him, he looked confused.
“You’re not mad?” he asked.
“I was. I was really mad at you. But then I figured it out. You were telling me in a really shitty, roundabout way that we’re just fuck buddies, and I can live with that.” You tried to give him a smile, but he looked like the angry one now.
“You really think I just want to fuck you?” His eyebrows pulled together, his expression cross.
“Well, yeah. Almost two weeks of fucking silence kind of gives off that vibe. You know what?” you scoffed. “Now I am mad at you again! God, Logan! First it’s you have to be with me even when I TOLD you this was not smart, then you’re flirting with all of God’s creation to make me jealous, THEN you’re hiding me from your dad and blowing me off. And now you have the nerve to act like nothing happened and bring me food from one of my favorite restaurants.” You were breathless. “So what is it Logan? Do you even have feelings for me at all or is this just a bunch of bullshit so we can fuck? Because if it’s the second one, I’d rather drop all the pretenses and just sleep with each other.”
Logan looked wounded. He’d heard you out and knew deep down you were right. But there was that part of him that refused to be too vulnerable. You already knew more about him than any of his friends. Only Juliet likely knew Logan better than you. He let out a sigh and ran his palms over his face, scratching lightly when he reached his beard. “I like you. Really. I like you a lot. But I don’t…I don’t know how to be anything worthwhile for other people.”
“Logan…”
“I mean it. I don’t know how to be a boyf—” his voice caught on the word, “boyfriend. I know I can’t be what you deserve. I’m giving you what I can, I promise you, and I’m sorry if it’s not enough. It wouldn’t be the first time,” he laughed bitterly.
“Hey,” you said softly, inching closer to him. “I’m not asking for you to start sending out Christmas card with me. All I need from you is to just be honest with me, maybe even a little open if that’s not asking too much.” You both laughed a little.
“I really am sorry. My dad tends to bring out the defiant teenager in me still.”
“I understand. Do you want to talk about it?” you offered gingerly. There was conflict behind his gaze. The scared, tired little boy in Logan wanted to let it all out and cry in your arms until his eyes were dry. But the guarded man in front of you wanted to keep pretending like he didn’t have a gaping wound open.
“If it’s ok, I’d rather make out until I forget about the whole thing,” he said as he ran his knuckles along your jawline. The guarded man had won, but you’d had enough arguing for one evening and climbed into his lap, his grasp firm on your hips when you crashed your lips into his.
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brattykeith · 6 years
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Fic Excerpt - Sheith Cat Cafe AU
An excerpt from a fic where Shiro is a barista at a cat cafe and Keith is a patron and they’re both disaster gays. 
~
“You still haven’t told me what happened to make him run off like that,” Matt pointed out, carefully assessing Shiro’s expression for a hint of another breakdown. Shiro flinched, and Matt braced himself, but instead Shiro just mournfully slid his cell phone across the counter. Matt took one look at it and inhaled sharply.
“Don’t say it.” Shiro hissed
“Well, shit,” Matt managed to choke out. To his horror, he couldn’t stop the bubble of nervous laughter that escaped his throat. “Shiro, man, I-”
“Shut up,” Shiro hissed out, his cheeks red from more than just crying now. He fixed Matt with a glare.
“I…” Matt looked back down at the photo. “Well,” he managed, before deciding that some things were better left unsaid.
~~
~~
“Okay, Shiro,” Matt said calmly, patting his best friend of many years on the back. Said best friend had his face buried into the crook of his elbow, a cloud of literal angst hovering over his head. Matt was pretty sure nothing was going to change that fact, not even the fluffy foam caricature of a dozing kitten resting on a piping hot mug of something sweet and caffeinated sitting in front of him. Hunk had meekly slid it over to the corner the two of them were occupying as some attempt at comfort. 
“It’s not okay,” Shiro half-sobbed, half-whined into his elbow, and Matt had to remind himself that Shiro was his best friend. Literally his best friend. They’d gone through high school and college together, even though Matt was a few years younger. Shiro had been the only one who didn’t look at him and go ‘aren’t you a little too young for Advanced Astrophysics?’. “He hates me now, it’s over, he’s never going to speak to me again!”
“Well,” Matt paused, covering up his lack of a good response with a timid pat on the back. If anyone had asked him who he’d be having the post-not-really-breakup session with it...well, it wouldn’t have been Katie, so he guessed Shiro was it. “I mean, you don’t know that for sure-” He leaned back when Shiro sat straight up.
Shiro, usually a picture of the phrase ‘A Whole Snacc’ had wet, swollen eyes and a red, splotchy face. His white hair was a frazzled mess and he fixed Matt with a glare. His uniform was crinkled; even the cheerful black paw prints dotting his dress shirt and apron looked particularly depressing right now.
“He literally ran out of the cafe, Matt!” Shiro replied sharply, earning a few shocked glances-like the entire cafe hadn’t been emotionally invested in Local Barista and Local Cat/Barista Fanatic’s Korean Drama level budding romance.
Matt slid him a stack of napkins as an apology, which Shiro accepted after a moment. The barista’s expression shifted to something more mournful as he began to clean himself up. Matt slid him another stack of napkins for good measure.
“You still haven’t told me what happened to make him run off like that,” Matt pointed out, carefully assessing Shiro’s expression for a hint of another breakdown. Shiro flinched, and Matt braced himself, but instead Shiro just mournfully slid his cell phone across the counter. Matt took one look at it and inhaled sharply.
“Don’t say it.” Shiro hissed
“Well, shit,” Matt managed to choke out. To his horror, he couldn’t stop the bubble of nervous laughter that escaped his throat. “Shiro, man, I-”
“Shut up,” Shiro hissed out, his cheeks red from more than just crying now. He fixed Matt with a glare.
“I…” Matt looked back down at the photo. “Well,” he managed, before deciding that some things were better left unsaid.
The photo in question was present on Shiro’s lock screen for the whole world to see. Shiro didn’t even have the decency to keep that sort of thing set to only his wallpaper. It was Cat/Barista Fanatic, as Matt knew him, only because unlike Shiro he had basic observational skills, and no single human being had any reason to visit a cat cafe for over 20 hours in a single week, unless they worked there, much less spend most of those hours staring longingly at one complete trainwreck of a barista.
Cat/Barista Fanatic looked like his day job was for a punk rock band, and his night job was for a K-pop band. He always wore a dark red leather jacket and some variant of a grey/black t-shirt and jeans just tight enough that Shiro got whiplash most days. His hair was black and styled into something vaguely related to a mullet, just long enough to brush down over his shoulders. His blue eyes (Matt only knew they were blue because Shiro liked to wax poetry about them when they were closing up shop) were closed, probably because Cat/Barista Fanatic was sleeping on one of the chaises that littered the cat play area. Tucked into the crook of his neck was Red, an orange tabby with a spicy attitude who had taken a liking to Cat/Barista Fanatic and literally no one else.
It was adorable, and if Shiro and Cat/Barista Fanatic were in an actual relationship, it’d be an ideal phone lock screen photo. However, Shiro and Cat/Barista Fanatic weren’t dating. In fact, Matt would bet money on the total amount of words spoken between the two of them being limited to less than hundred, which was shockingly small considering how much Shiro babbled about the guy the second he walked out the door.
So, that being said, Shiro having a photo of the guy set to his lock screen was, quite frankly, creepy.
“I,” Matt swallowed another bout of laughter at Shiro’s miserable expression. “So, how did he see it?” He asked, deciding the best course of action was to go for the jugular and crack the whole situation wide open. The sooner they got to the center of Shiro’s emotional trauma, the sooner Matt would be able to bail out and drink away the memory of this entire conversation.
“I was walking past him in the cat play area,” Shiro said, sounding like he was explaining how his world was falling apart (accurate). “And I went to bend over to pet Black because she wanted some attention, and my phone fell from my pocket and he just grabbed it and,” Shiro gestured vaguely with his hands, another sniffle escaping his throat. “He didn’t say anything, he just ran out!”
“Aw, come on, Shiro,” Matt looked up to see Hunk looking at the two of them from the other side of the counter. “Run is a strong word. He kinda...speed walked...? Jogged?” Hunk amended after a moment. “Keith used to run on the track team in school, you know, like if he’d been really running I would know.”
There was a long pause as both Matt and Shiro stared at him.
“Keith?” Matt repeated the name in mind horror. Who named their child ‘Keith’? What parent looked at an infant and decided that ‘Keith’ was a fitting name?
“High school?” Shiro said, looking at Hunk with wide eyes. “You went to high school with him?”
“Uh, yeah?” Hunk said, inching away slowly. “Lance, Pidge and I all went to high school with him. He and Lance always got into fights. I think he and Pidge were really close.”
As if on cue, both Shiro and Hunk looked at Matt, who suddenly wished he was an only child.
“Uh,” Matt managed as Shiro turned to face him fully.
“I’m coming over to your house,” Shiro announced firmly.
“Shiro,” Matt said with mild panic, “you can’t...just come over!” They both knew that neither of Matt’s parents would object. Sam and Colleen loved Shiro. When they’d found out that Shiro was gay Matt had been the one who’d been sat down and given the ‘if you’re gay and dating Shiro we completely support you talk’. If anything Matt’s parents had been completely heartbroken by Matt’s bold declaration of heterosexuality.
Shiro ignored him. “I get off at six. I’ll probably be there around 6:30 if traffic’s alright.”
“Shiro, please” Matt pleaded now. His entire family didn’t have to get involved with this trainwreck of a love affair.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” Shiro said firmly, straightening out out his shirt.
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believerindaydreams · 5 years
Text
the one that happens after the Baker one
"We're going to be okay," Tuco promises Angel Eyes, as he shuts and locks the broom cupboard. Wishes he had a name to call the man, that wouldn't sound so stupid to say aloud in public.
(trigger warnings: in which various racist comments are made, and Tuco is bratty and unwoke on the subject of feminism.)
He ought to have known better than taking Angel to such a questionable joint- but a part of him had already been itching to get back to a place like this, sizzling neon lights and watered beer, girls who'll spit in your eye once they notice who you're with and why. Living at the hacienda's so safe. And Angel had been the one to suggest it.
"Blondie told me stories. But countrified, prettied up for my benefit-" this with a sardonic look in his eye, the one Tuco used to think was bitter but has since decided is Angel's idea of humour. "I wouldn't mind getting a notion of what the scene looks like to you."
"You promise not to talk too much?" Anybody else, he'd be on pins and needles, ready to cringe at an overplayed hand (it's different for him, that's the whole shtick). But by now they've gotten to know each other; Tuco has a rather definite idea that if he told Angel to shut up, he'd actually shut up. At least in this particular context.
"Easily done. Lay out any ground rules that make sense to you."
Simple as that, eh? "If I say we leave, we go and no argument. Let me take the lead unless some damn cowboy decides that beating me to a pulp sounds like a fun Friday night out, then you do whatever makes sense. Even if that's just leaving, I don't want to look after somebody in a fight when they don't want to be there. And since it's your idea," Tuco had said, drawing just enough irony into his voice- "I'll let you stake us out for it."
"Fine," Angel had said. Before adding, "Anything you win, keep for yourself."
Now that's where the trouble had come in.
Being so broke they'd started dipping into the stake for tequila money, that had not been a good state of affairs. Not that the best room and board he's had since leaving Brooklyn is anything to sneeze at- who's he kidding, the hacienda's way better than that rusty tenement. But there hasn't been a word about the green stuff since meeting Angel, and while that's strangely reassuring, it also worries him what'll happen if the bubble bursts. (How the hell is Blondie managing alone, with only half their cash? Maybe his partner will come back when he gets hungry enough).
Tuco knows better than to stare and lick his lips, watching Angel count out enough money to keep him and his partner for months- but the notion crosses his mind, to just grab the cash and run. Not gonna happen. It's a bank, and there's such a thing as cops, and he could confidently set his life expectancy at three days pus or minus a couple, after a play like that. Doesn't stop him thinking about it. It's a free country.
"We're not doing the hustle, obviously," he explains once they're on the street. "I only do it with Blondie, and anyway we'd have to split up for that. And I'm not dressed for it."
In lieu of his usual eye-catching gear, he's plumped for the skirt-chasing outfit: khaki pants and matching drip-dry jacket and a shirt with just two colours in it, something Angel's been giving him weird looks for ever since they left the house. It's slightly uncomfortable, wearing it for a night like this. Somebody who looks too crazy to fuck doesn't have to worry about anybody trying. Not like Blondie, fending off the offers with a stick whenever people notice he's pretty.
(In a way he's always been jealous of that. But also, it'd just be another problem, make him more vulnerable than he is already, and he'd just as soon give that a miss.)
"Then what did you dress for?" Angel asks.
"A few drinks, a few hands of poker, nothing too messy- I guess you're not looking for a girl at the end of the night, huh? So we won't do this by the book."
"Certain companionship wouldn't necessarily go amiss," Angel Eyes says, taking him by the hand. Thin white gloves for a change, suitable for cardplay, and he's guessed that someone must be getting fairly horny in his partner's absence, but this is almost comical. By Angel's usual standards, they’re practically fucking in the street. He should have gone with that blue-toned Hawaiian shirt after all.
Then again, Baker finally getting the hint and going yesterday means that he's fresh out of options again. And deprivation always gives him an appetite.
"...see how the night goes," Tuco mutters, in a deniable fashion; and then takes his hand away because there are about fifteen good reasons for them not to be seen like this. "And we'll have a few drinks, like I said."
"I don't often drink in public," Angel Eyes says. There's a vibe of transgression there, that he would expect, but maybe not with that much wryness to it. As though it's a private joke instead of a statement of fact.
"Why, you want people to think you're on the wagon?" Plenty of good reasons for that. He's done it himself with girls a couple times, if he hasn't ordered yet and it looks like that'll impress them. "I know you're not a teetotaler, with all the red wine that goes into your soups."
"Believe it or not, the way I cook them burns the alcohol content off. There's no risk of intoxication from my venison stew, I can assure you."
"Oh. That's a little disappointing, I thought it made it more fun...well, if you don't want to, you don't want to. I can fix you up, there's a couple tricks so nobody will know the difference."
"Just the one...shouldn't hurt. No."
Cue a sudden warmth washing through his gut. The tense, attractive quality of that rueful craving- somebody who knows better, not even trying to resist temptation- that doesn't sound like buttoned-up Angel Eyes one little bit, that sounds like him. Or somebody who's been listening to him an awful lot, the last couple months.
Skirt-chasing gear, yes. The clothes he wants other people to see him in, when he wants to fuck them. Damn his instincts.
And damn you too, Blondie. I hope you get back soon...
Which had been the last thought he'd spared for his partner that whole evening, two bars and three nightclubs and a few hands of poker. That he thinks had gone a little better than usual, without having to juggle the hustle and betting and trying not to drool over Blondie looking zesty, although Angel Eyes proves more of a distraction there than he'd like to think. Angel’s certainly never going to cut it as a cardsharp; he’d easily been the weakest player during that Carson foursome, and calling his playing tonight desultory might be kind. Too busy staring at the room, like a wet-behind-the-ears tourist. 
Him ordering the expensive mixed drinks, the ones he'd never had the money to risk trying before. Angel had held off for a while, until they'd accidentally landed up somewhere halfway clean, with a bartender willing to open a new bottle of whisky on request, and had downed the shot in one.
That had been a good two hours ago, but if Angel's not drunk enough to be desperate now, Tuco's at a loss for what's wrong with the man. The moment there’d been a crash on the door downstairs,  Angel had grabbed him and made for an exit as though he’d be rehearsing. 
"Look, these police raids happen all the time. They round you up, you're in the slammer for a night, all a man like you has to do is pay bail and get out." He glances at the door again. Sooner or later somebody's going to look in here and then they're going to be in for it.
"I am not going to let anyone take me anywhere," Angel says, flipping a gun out from somewhere under his coat. No doubt it's loaded. Tuco's positive he knows how to use it.
"You said you'd listen to me, huh? You gonna break a promise? Right now it's just a raid. The cops shove some people around a bit, somebody gets beaten up, they'll survive that. You start shooting, they start shooting, people end up dead. And I'm the kind of guy who's ready made for a target."
"If I have to, I'll use it," Angel says stubbornly; but he shoves the gun in his pocket, and actions always matter more with him. "I can't afford a run-in like that."
"Okay. I said to trust me, I'll get you out of this."
His mind's been working on it, while his mouth's been busy; there's shelves of cleaning products, buckets, a mop cart. Too bad he didn't bring his Duluth- damn it, this is exactly what's wrong with wearing something too stylish to pair with a canoe pack. "You see any rubbing alcohol?"
Wordlessly, Angel takes a bottle down from a high shelf, wraps his fingers around it when they won't cooperate. It occurs to Tuco he might be drunker than he realised.
But the basic idea's solid, he just has to make it work. "Now- um. We take everything off the cart, put it back on the shelf, you hide inside under the tablecloths. Pour some alcohol on me, I'm going to be drunk."
"You are drunk."
"I know, I want to look it. Make me messy."
There's something much too sexy and familiar at once, about the way Angel Eyes almost chokes in disbelief- Blondie ought to know better but still does the same thing, when he's caught off guard. There's something even worse about how fast Angel intuits what he wants, mussing up his hair but good and trickling alcohol down his shirt and adding an artistic scruff of dust to his collar. Fuck it, he's getting a hard-on like nobody's business. Tight pants too, that's not going to help.
"If I were a janitor," Tuco says, with what he's aware is a slightly exaggerated dignity. 
Glances around, paws hopefully at the ventilation duct. Out comes- yes! a beat-up but serviceable edition of Playboy, two of them in fact, and it's not quite what he had in mind but maybe the detail will sell it even better. "Now Angel, you hide yourself in the cart, and for the love of- of somebody or other, don't sneeze."
"You're sure you know what you're doing."
"I better be sure, or with a trigger-happy idiot like you I'm dead. Get movin'," and the last sentence sort of slurs into a yawn, but Angel must get the idea because he disappears from sight.
Now all he has left to do is dab on alcohol like a 'specally good cologne, arrange the magazines in a convincing position and fall asleep on top of the cart, his legs dangling down. Easy.
So easy, in fact, that the next thing he knows is a click of a door unlocking. He snuffles noisily, inches his position slightly so his face lies against the cart's hard plastic; it's easier to fake sleep that way. His breathing's nice and loud when the door opens.
"Hey, you. You work here?"
He keeps snuffling away, happily enough. Two cops, maybe? Not more than that but there must be more around within earshot.
"I guess this idiot's been snoring his way through the whole raid. Stole a magazine to look at the dirty pictures- well, he probably can't read."
"Lusting after them white women," somebody else says, in a mock high-pitched tone. "All right, get him cuffed and bring him down to the station, we're done here."
"Fine. Wake up, you-" at least he's not being handled too harshly, the cop doesn't seem to want to touch him. He sits up after a bare minimum of shoving.
"What's your name, bud?"
"Janitor! Janitor- comprehende? Americano," Tuco says with considerable eagerness, and offers up his stupidest smile. It's one he's practiced in mirrors. "No speaka English."
"Oh christ, you're one of those...."
They take him out to a squad car, him blathering cheerful Spanish for every step; shove him inside. Could be worse, Tuco figures; he's done Angel Eyes enough of a favour that he can probably count on a bailout. He listens to the engine start up with no small satisfaction.
He's just settling against the seat to recommence that nap, when a familiar voice pipes up.
"All right. If you're here, where's Angel?"
"Baker?"
"One and the same. Now think about that question very carefully, because if you don't have an answer by the time I round this corner, you won't live long enough to worry about getting arrested."
"Back inside," Tuco says immediately. "I left him in a broom cupboard."
"Right. We're going back to get him."
"...so, you were a cop all along?"
"Good lord, no," Baker says. "I'm only borrowing this squad car. We'll use mine for the real escape."
The fact that they get away with the operation scot-free says more about the damn improbability of anyone stealing a police car and then giving it back inside of two minutes than Baker's street smarts, Tuco figures.
************
"You were following me," Angel says, once they're back at the house. He looks dead on his feet and Tuco doesn't blame him. "Baker, if you ever do anything like that again, I will-"
"You'll what?" Baker asks, in a jaunty, top-of-the-world fashion. His enthusiasm fades at Angel's frozen glare; Tuco finds himself watching the interplay with genuine curiosity.
Angel turns his head, glances at him. "I will never go on a hunting trip with you again. Ever. Understood?"
"Angel, you wouldn't- would he?"
Now they're both staring at him. "Yes. I think he would," Tuco says.
"Okay, okay! I promise. But you have to admit, I came in handy."
"You were not, and I don't owe you a damned thing. You're needlessly theatrical, it's going to get you killed one of these days, and as for Tuco, my partner and I had it under control."
(He doesn't like the notion, that he might be claimed as anyone else's partner; but he does enjoy the way the words make Baker droop in his tracks.)
"...understood."
"Good," Angel says, casually wiping his knife clean on the cuff of his shirt. "Now go away. Don’t call me, I’ll call you."
"I still say you need a better bodyguard."
"I'll take your opinion under advisement."
"You really are awfully happy together, eh?" Baker asks. "Well. I guess I'd better just go and tell that sweet Blondie he ought to take up with me, since it looks like you two won't be needing him any time soon..."
Tuco eyes Angel; Angel eyes him back.
Baker's bluffing.
He doesn't know what brought Angel to that conclusion, but to him it's obvious enough- Blondie's pushing up their value a little, reminding Angel the two of them have other options. They know each other well enough to trust the other's play, even at a remove.
It's a smart thing his partner's doing, a good move. Maybe he wouldn't have thought so this morning, but that'd been before realising he was still this desperate, that the mere chance to grab a little hard cash had made him stupid enough to stick around in a place long after his instincts had told him to leave. If they'd been smart and kept moving, they never would have been at risk in that raid in the first place.
Then again, he wouldn't have found out that Angel is a gun-happy maniac, and that's worth knowing. And Blondie's coming back. He's bound to.
"Give him my best regards," Angel Eyes says, languidly. "He's welcome to a bowl of soup here whenever he likes."
Tuco opens his mouth. Shuts it again. Years of habit are strong; they don't tell people they're partners, or the whole hustle doesn't work...so he'd better not say anything. Blondie's the one who's always the most worried about secrecy, anyway.
"I'll let him know," Baker says.
He looks rather hurt when he goes.
***************
"Here, you'd better take this back," Tuco says at dinner, pulling the remains of Angel's stake from his pocket. So much for turning a profit; he'd blown through it rather freely, what with drinks and tips and prairie oysters.
"You might keep it for next time," Angel says, in a distinctly abstracted way. Twice already, he's dipped the spoon into his coffee cup instead of his soup bowl, sipped it without apparently noticing the change in flavour. 
"No, no." If this is the way Blondie wants to play it, this is the way they'll play it.
Though it proves an awfully hard thing, to sleep alone that night.
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marlonrae · 5 years
Text
‘’CONFESSION’’ – RAEMON.
LOC: marlon’s hotel room. @fckmonax
MARLON
''Nah, you didn't have to pay for that long. It ain't like I'm broke anymore.'' sighs, letting out a yawn as he sits on the bed.
MONA
“But still, that money could be better used spoiling my nephew than paying for your hotel because you did something stupid enough for Hazel to kick you out.” takes a seat on the edge of the bed
MARLON
''Brother, I fucked up real big this time.'' shakes head ''Ima be lucky if she ever takes me back.''
MONA
narrows eyes at him, is really curious “What could you have possibly done that’s worse than what we already did? I think you’re just being dramatic.”
MARLON
''Nah...'' scoffs ''What we did ain't nothing compared to what I just did.''
MONA
“That.... concerning.” is actually starting to become worried about him “Marlon, tell me what you did.”
MARLON
gives her a look. ''You seriously have no idea?''
MONA
“Nope.” meets his eyes, waiting for him to spill
MARLON
sighs, hesitating to say it out loud. ''Don't make me say it, you know me enough... think harder.''
MONA
feels tension building up in the room, knows it’s something bad “Well I know what I think it is... I really hope it’s not that, Marlon.”
PRESTON
''If you're thinking something real bad that I can't fix, you got it.'' sighs ''I did that.''
MONA
is silent for probably a whole minute “Why’d you do it?”
MARLON
''He kept trying me...'' shrugs, shaking his head slightly. ''He had been trying me for like, several months now. He owed me $3k, said he wouldn't pay me shit but kept on running his mouth and saying shit he didn't have to say. Talked about my kids, even.''
MONA
clenches and unclenches her jaw as he speaks, is insanely disappointed in him “Who?”
MARLON
takes a deep breath, taking a loooong ass pause. ''Ainsley.'' looks down as he mentions his name.
MONA
is both angry and sad, confused more than anything “Ainsley? I haven’t even seen him in forever. I thought he moved away or something.” shakes head, stands and paces “Why did you lend him $3,000? None of this makes sense.”
MARLON
''He didn't move, he was just being a weirdo. Apparently slept all day and went out to fuck around at night or something and I didn't lend him $3,000.'' shakes head. ''I sold him $3,000 in drugs for this party he was at and then he bailed and played me. – Can you sit the fuck down, your pacing is stressing me out.''
MONA
continues pacing as he tells his story “Oh. That makes a lot more sense. Doesn’t justify if, but it makes sense.” stops moving when he calls her out, takes a seat in the chair this time “You should be stressed out. How do you know this won’t come back on you?”
MARLON
''Because I'm smart, I cleaned my mess... Literally.'' shrugs ''No one's gonna be looking for him and even if they were, they wouldn't be able to trace it back to me.''
MONA
nods and tries to think of all the bases he might not have covered “What about his apartment? You said he still lives there... Lived there. What happens when the landlord realizes that there’s no one paying rent anymore?”
MARLON
''This bitch owed rent, they were threatening to take him out.'' sighs ''He supposedly came from money but he really was a cheap bastard who paid for nothing and still expected us all to treat him as if he was the fucking pope or sum'.''
MONA
is quiet, sighs after a few seconds “None of that makes this okay, Marlon.” shakes her head, stands and starts pacing again “What... uh, what was it like? Like how did it, um, feel?”
MARLON
narrows eyes and gives her a look, almost smirking. ''Bitch I fucking knew you would ask me that shit.'' shakes head with a shrug ''I don't know, though. I was mad, felt like I was in some type of trance and when I snapped out of it, he was out.''
MONA
laughs and rolls her eyes “Shut up.” listens close as he describes it “Huh. That sounds kind of lame. I have no desire to partake.” sighs and sits back down
MARLON
''It felt kinda good, though.'' smirks, biting down at his bottom lip. ''Like, you know when Bundy said there's apparently nothing better than feeling a person's last breath leave their body? I didn't actually experience any of that but it felt good to let the anger out, like, it was therapeutic.'' covers his face with his hands and sighs, revealing his face again. ''I really am fucked up.''
MONA
listens, watches wide eyed as he explains the feeling, gets chills “Okay, thats what I wanted to hear.” switches seats to sit next to him again, pulls him into a hug, whispers “Shut up. If you’re fucked up, I’m fucked up. I got you.”
MARLON
laughs, feeling oddly lucky to have Mona in his life ''You really are fucked up.'' chuckles, hugging her tightly, thankful for her presence and support. ''Dude, but I gotta tell you.. Oh my god, there was so much blood.''
MONA
laughs and pulls away “Yeah, I’ve heard about that! That you never truly understand how much blood is in a body until you’re in the presence of a bleeding body.” looks whimsically into the distance
MARLON
eyes wide open ''Bro, there's like ten times more blood when you stab someone. It was ridiculous.''
MONA
is oddly jealous that she wasn’t there, shakes it off “But ok. how does this all relate to Hazel kicking you out? You didn’t tell her, did you?”
MARLON
''That's where I fucked up...'' sighs ''...I hid for two days. Chopping this dudes body, cleaning my mess, covering my tracks, going over everything a million times again and again and of course she got worried, texted my friend Josh who told her I was completely fine because he called me on my other phone she didn't even know I had and then I kinda freaked out and reached out to her and apologized and told her what I did.''
MONA
sits in silence even after he finishes speaking, shakes her head “There are a million lies you could’ve told her that would have been better than the truth.” sighs “What if she wakes up one day and decides you’re too dangerous to be around Seb or something?”
MARLON
scoffs ''She already decided that.''
MONA
rolls eyes “Idiot.”
MARLON
''Me or her?'' looks confused ''What do you think I'm doing out here? She don't want me around her or the kids.''
MONA
“You. Obviously.”
MARLON
''But it's not like I would do anything to my family.'' sighs out of frustration.
MONA
“I know that and she knows that.” sighs and shakes her head “But she also knows what you’re capable of now.”
MARLON
''I'm capable of taking someone down if they keep messing with me, yes.'' makes eye contact. ''I don't regret it.''
MONA
“Yeah, I get that.” shakes head and stands “I just don’t think you should’ve told her.”
MARLON
''Yeah, I regret telling her.'' sighs ''Like, I could've lived without telling her but at the same time I don't wanna keep shit from her anymore.''
MONA
“Marlon. It’s cute and all that love Hazel so much and respect her enough to not want to keep secrets...” pauses for emphasis, gathers her stuff “but THIS is a secret you were better off keeping.” sighs “I should go.”
MARLON
looks down, knowing she was right. – suddenly pulls his knife out and cuts the palm of his hand, quickly standing and taking her hand, asking no questions and doing a smaller cut on her palm. shaking her hand. ''Promise me you won't tell anyone.'' makes eye contact, still holding her hand in a spontaneous blood pact.
MONA
“Marlon, wh-“ eyes widen when she realizes what’s happening “OW!” feels tears quickly forming “Why? We’ve already done that once before and it’s not like I was planning on telling anyway you weirdo.” grabs a tissue to stop the bleeding, hands him one as well “Now I’m gonna have two scars.” *shakes head and chuckles *
MARLON
rolls eyes when she whines and sees the tears forming, takes her hand AGAIN. ''You didn't promise this time. Promise!'' raises eyebrows expectantly ''The sooner you promise, the faster you can start crying, and stop playing, warriors have scars. Scars are cool.''
MONA
“Oh my god! I promise, okay? Of course, I promise.” rolls eyes, and wipes away her tears “And that’s not the same knife, is it?”
MARLON
nods and smiles ''Thank you.'' grabs the tissue, cleans the knife before pressing the tissue against her palm. ''Of course not, that one don't exist anymore.''
MONA
“Good. I would’ve vomited.” frowns as the bleeding continues, checks time “I should really head home. If I’m gone too long, Fabian will probably use it against me.”
MARLON
''We can take him out too, you know?'' shrugs, actually joking this time ''I'm KIDDING, don't kill me now.''
MONA
laughs out loud “You are awful. So awful.” is still high key laughing
MARLON
''I'm pro now and this time you could be there to watch.'' laughs along with her ''Get the fuck outta here.'' laughs and pushes her. ''Wait, give me a hug.''
MONA
“I’m definitely going to hell just for this conversation.” almost makes it to the door, but doesn’t hesitate to turn around and hug him when he asked “Awww I almost forgot for a sec how much I love you.” hugs him tightly for a few seconds, honestly still pretty worried about him “I’ll swing by tomorrow too check in.” opens the door to leave
MARLON
hugs her back jus as tightly. ''You're rider, bug. I love you.'' pulls away and nods, smiling at her. ''I appreciate that, thank you.'' goes back to bed
[THE END]
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